Back to Me
by mollysgonemad
Summary: After Bucky was presumed dead, the Asgardian Lara spent seventy years believing that the love her life was gone forever. Now fate gives them another chance. The last thing she expects is for him to remember her, but some old flames can rekindle into something brighter. (unlike in the CA:CW storyline, Bucky doesn't choose to go under when he's in Wakanda)
1. Not Lost

**Hi! This is the first fanfic that I've ever uploaded, so I'm very anxious to see what you guys think, honestly I've been longing to write a Bucky x O.C. fanfic so here is the first chapter. I have a general sense of where I want to take this story, but I'm new to this and still trying to work out the kinks of my O.C. and the plot so please be patient with me!**

Asgard was always somewhat of a distant memory for Lara. She hadn't seen her family since she was barely a teenager. To most Midgardians, that would mean decades. But for Lara, time was measured in their lifetimes. She was among the selected few Asgardians chosen to keep the peace in other realms, although it was a secretive organisation that Odin himself instated. Posted here since the 18th century, this coup eventually disintegrated for fear of exposing the remaining realms, but Lara never left. She instead grew accustomed to this world, allowing herself to become anchored to it. But the hold that possessed her with such intensity was precipitated during the Second World War, when she ran into a certain soldier.

These memories were far more vivid, often playing on repeat in Lara's dreams. She spent years trying to move on, push away the crippling thoughts, the nightmarish reality. _He's gone, he's gone, he's never coming back._ Hard to comprehend how she felt on discovering that James Buchanan Barnes was alive all the while.

* * *

Tuesday morning's scorching sun did little to stir Lara from her sleep, despite the open blinds which welcomed the beams of light into the bedroom, as they drew nearer across the parquet floorboard. She had training the night before and simply collapsed into a slumber, exhausted, distracted, as she often preferred to be before she slept. Yet the loud rapping noise against her front door was enough to get the woman on her feet, and she caught a glimpse at her watch. 7:03 am. Like clockwork, she thought. Her hair was undoubtedly a mess and she had morning breath, so she didn't even attempt to hide her drowsiness as she spoke from behind the mahogany entrance. "Look, I don't care much for your scout biscuity things, so please stop ringing my doorbell every fortnight."

"It's me," said a deep, familiar voice, and she paused for a moment's hesitation. Suddenly, Lara almost yanked the door's handle off completely. He stood in front of her, the features of his face hardened, his expression sombre. "Steve?"

"Hi Lara."

Wordlessly, she let him inside, and she waited for him to speak as he followed her into the hallway. She was first to break the silence. "So are you gonna tell me what's wrong?"

"You're not gonna believe what I have to tell you."

"Are you kidding me? Last time you told me the Avengers took in a girl who can warp reality, and her twin was a speedster. What makes you think I'm gonna stop -"

"Bucky's alive," Steve interjected, his gaze unmoving from Lara's, who was convinced that she was delusional and her mind was playing tricks on her.

"You're lying, that's… That's ridiculous." she replied coolly, and he couldn't deny the edge in her voice. "Why would you say or even think that, Steve? Why?" The words sounding accusing, yet he was prepared for this.

"Hydra found him after the fall in 1945. They turned him into a something else, a weapon."

"But how- He'd have to be about a hundred years old?!" Lara's calm demeanour was gone, overwhelmed with confusion and disbelief, her voice trembling with the weight of Steve's truth.

"And I'm 97, Lara."

But then the realisation dawned on her. She knew that the Avengers were involved with a super soldier like Steve, how the news said he was a deadly assassin, roaming free because attempting to capture him was like chasing a ghost. But Lara was unaware that she already knew his face. "He's the Winter Soldier." The fact was hardly a murmur, but Steve heard well enough in the deafening silence. Her hazel eyes narrowed, focused on the Avenger now.

"So when were you ever planning on sharing that information with me, Steve? When the rest of the world already knew?!" Her hands were shaking at her sides, fury was boiling in her blood. She was too lost in thought to notice how long the soldier stood silently, until he spoke again.

"He's not the same person we knew. His mind is unstable, he didn't even remember me until two years ago."

"Two years?" Lara echoed, unblinking, overwhelmed with disbelief. "You knew Bucky was out there for two years and yet you couldn't have even…" She turned away from him, running one hand through her short onyx hair while the other was over her mouth.

"How could you let me spend all that time believing he was dead? How?"

"Because I wasn't sure if it was him anymore. I had to know for certain that he could come back from this before I put you through any of it. I am sorry but you have to understand that, Lara." He looked at her with such a genuine sincerity that her rage almost wavered.

"You should have told me before, Steve. You don't get to protect me or make these decisions." There was a pause, and he watched her as she looked into space, contemplating, comprehending. Then she turned to him as she spoke. "Where is Bucky now?"


	2. Who The Hell Is She?

**Okay, so this is kind of where everything starts because the first chapter was a prologue, so hope you enjoy this encounter between my O.C. and Bucky!**

Lara sat in the passenger seat while Steve steered the car as they left the airport. She hadn't caught a wink of sleep throughout the entire flight to Wakanda, for fear of what she'd see and couldn't control in her sleep. She often caught glimpses of the future in her dreams if she wished, but she willed this gift to cease when she saw Bucky fall to his supposed death, the night before it happened. But by the time she could get hold of the army base, she knew that there was no way of reaching him in time. He was halfway around the world, with a sealed fate, and all the while she was helpless to stop it.

And now she found herself feigning off the temptation to close her eyes and see what he had become, or what remained of his former self. Just the thought of it made her uneasy, and so many questions raced through her mind. _What if he can't fight off the Winter Soldier? What if he can't come back?_ And then she reminisced over the last time she saw him alive, hugging her tightly as he kissed her forehead goodnight, promising that he would find his way to her when the war was over. Steve told her all about how Bucky struggled to remember his best friend and how things were coming back to him in fragments. Even though she still wasn't sure about what she'd find, she wouldn't dare to expect that Bucky remembered her through the brainwashing, the torture, the killing. He was alive and safe, that was more than she could have hoped for.

The Asgardian continued to gaze outside the window as the car began to slow. She assumed that even Steve was preoccupied with his own thoughts, imagining how Bucky would react upon seeing the woman he once loved. The destination came into his sight, a helicopter was in front of them, and a figure stepped out of it, yelling over the sound of the engine and the whirring. "I was wondering when you would make an appearance."

"Well, you know how 6 hour flights are," Steve replied, "This is my friend, Lara," he added, and she stretched out her hand to greet the emerging man. "I've heard quite a lot about you, Lara," the man uttered as he took her hand. "I am King T'Challa."

"And I you," she replied, bowing her head out of respect. His eyes searched hers knowingly. He probably couldn't begin to imagine what was going through the woman's mind, but it wasn't pity, but rather resembled something like understanding and lack of it.

"It's getting dark, best we leave now." And so the Wakandan King led the two to the helicopter, taking his place in the pilot's seat. Steve and Lara sat next to each other, and as a means of comfort, he squeezed her hand, silently reassuring her that it would be okay.

Outside Lara could see the misty grey, the waterfalls that flowed endlessly as if they were above an abyss. Even as she peered through the glass and the mist, she could not see the end of the waterfalls or the landscape itself. There were some trees looming over the edges, branching out towards them, beckoning them forwards. It was like a dark paradise, disguised by the gloomy fog around it. _The perfect, unsuspecting cover_ , she thought. Then something else began to take shape below, and the fog seemed to dissipate as she realised that it was an enormous panther, coated in black and sleek in form. It was posed to pounce. In that same moment, T'Challa brought the helicopter to a sharp turn and Lara could tell that they were about to land. Eventually the engines were cut off and she was walking on the ground again, walking away from the helicopter pad. Steve was close behind, while T'Challa strode ahead of them, unlocking doors with codes, retina scans and what not, and all there was to do was follow as her anxiety threatened to envelope her with every step. Outside of the dark corridors, the quarters appeared lavish and elegant, a mix of the old and new with the varnished wooden furniture and its spacious setting.

As they reached the end of the hall, T'Challa paused in front of a more secure door, and then turned his head to Lara. "Are you certain that you wish to go in?" he inquired, concerned. Steve remained silent, knowing well enough that she needed to see him again, to know that he was alive. She nodded her reply, and he didn't hesitate as he provided all the codes and scans. Nudging the door open, Lara watched the warm light reach their feet. She looked up and saw him, sitting behind a glass frame, staring into nothing as a doctor of some sort was monitoring his vitals. _What was he thinking about?_ As he heard the door shut behind Steve, he took in the trio and gave them a general and slight smile. Steve was now in front of Lara, pushing the sliding door to the left. "Hey, Buck," the soldier beamed.

"Hey, where were you?" he asked before turning to Lara quizzically, who felt her heart skip a beat as he spoke. His hair was longer than she remembered, with more stubble. But his eyes, they retained the same ocean-blue shade that she adored. She couldn't help but feel somewhat hopeful.

"I was in Brooklyn, brought over a friend of ours."

The man seated before her gave Steve a questioning glare, and Lara saw his face instantly warp into shock before he abruptly rose and lunged at her, oblivious to the wires and equipment he knocked over. "Who's your handler?" he growled, his face inches from hers, his newly fabricated metal hand gripping tightly at her throat. "Did Karpov send you?" Desperately resisting the hold he had on her by tugging at the metal encircling her neck, she could hardly breathe, let alone speak. Her mouth uselessly gasped for air, her lips forming the question, "What are you talking about?"

Steve and T'Challa raced to pull Bucky off of her. "Bucky, no! She's not Hydra! Let go of her!" In an obscure flash, she saw the enraged soldier be subdued on the floor, all the while continuing to yell in frustration. The stunned doctor in turn rose from the floor and urged Lara to go outside but she was reluctant. She inhaled deeply, and spoke. "You used to cut your hair at Cassie's." Suddenly the metal stopped screeching against the floor, and the hatred in Bucky's eyes returned to confusion. Steve and T'Challa were unsure of what she was getting at, yet still they held the man down as he listened. "Your favourite instrument is the saxophone but you never learned." She took a step forward, her gaze fixed on his, "You hate the smell of smoke and you once imagined yourself being a boxing instructor."

"You know, I actually remember that last one pretty well." Steve added, still not lessening his grip.

"So how do you explain that you're from our time, look our age and yet you're not a Winter Soldier?" Bucky interjected, still maintaining a wary gaze with the woman standing in front of him. "Isn't it rude to ask a lady about her age?" she replied, stopping the smirk from appearing across her face. "I'm Asgardian, James." Bucky's mouth opened slightly, as if lost for words. Lara wondered if there was a hint of incredulity in his reaction. Following his moment of apprehension, he asked her "Like the guy with the hammer?" The woman hardly attempted to stifle a laugh at this, "Yes, like the guy with the hammer."

And with that, he stopped fighting completely, muscles no longer tense. The two men relaxed their grip and got Bucky back on his feet, yet Steve didn't remove his hand from Bucky's shoulder just yet. Bucky on the other was unaware of the touch, and moved away towards Lara but not too close. "I'm very sorry about that. I thought you might have been from the same program or something." Without thinking, Lara threw herself at him and wrapped him in a tight hug, burying her head in his shoulder. The suddenness of her embrace left him dumbfounded, he couldn't bring himself to react before she pulled away. She realised how stupid that was, for him it was like he was being hugged by a stranger. _You're being ridiculous, Lara. Get a grip_ , she told herself. "Sorry I, I shouldn't have," she murmured.

"No, I don't blame you. It's just… not something I'm used to yet." his eyes had an apologetic look in them, but his lips curved at one side a little. _Was he smirking?_ "Other than that, I didn't catch your name," he added. "Well, it's kind of hard to exchange pleasantries when one is choking the other." she gave him a genuine smile, though she wished the floor would swallow her up for such a lame, insensitive joke. She gulped on her self-criticism. "It's Lara."

Bucky paused, maybe he was trying to find a trigger of a memory, but she assumed he came up blank. "Hi Lara."

"Hi, Bucky."

"Are you guys hungry?" Steve chimed in. "I made some quiche yesterday before I left to get you, want some?" he inquired to the group.

"Thank you, but I have a conference in Belgium to be at, I'll return in a few days. It was nice to meet you, Lara." he neared her to shake her hand once again. Then he turned to Steve and Bucky, "Try not to kill each other while I'm gone." And just as he was about to disappear from their line of sight, they could hear him boom his final piece of advice, "And if by any chance you do, walk it off!" Steve couldn't help but respond with a short laugh.


	3. Always

"I'm surprised you didn't suggest your usual mac and cheese, Steve," Lara remarked between mouthfuls.

"Bruce taught me a couple of things at the Stark Tower. Other than that, there's the internet."

"Okay, but really this is amazing."

Steve looked up from his plate to Lara. "Thank you."

Before the next bite, Lara turned to Bucky who was on her right. He seemed lost in thought as he dangled his fork on the plate. "Wasn't quiche your mum's favourite thing to make?"

Steve almost coughed on his food, and Lara let her knife fall to the ground.

"You actually remember that?" Steve croaked.

Lara's mouth was agape, surprised at the recollection. In the meantime, Bucky reached down with his metal arm for her knife as he spoke, "Yeah, I dunno… I guess the taste of it reminded me of when she cooked it up."

"Buck, she only ever made it once when you came over." his voice was higher than usual, emphasising his disbelief.

"Then it must have been some great quiche." he muttered before returning to his food.

The night went on and they talked and talked. Mostly it was Steve bringing up old memories and Bucky interrupting with what he could remember. Eventually, Lara fell silent, playing with leftovers and thinking about how things once were a lifetime ago. She wished that conversation came as easily as it was between Steve and Bucky. Back then, she could talk to him about anything, dusk to dawn. Now it was all lost to him, possibly for good.

"Well, I'm off. Jet lag's got the best of me." Steve uttered between his fingers as he covered a yawn. "See you in the morning."

"Night night, Stevie," Lara called out, followed by Bucky's "See ya."

The two were left alone in the kitchen in silence, and Lara was trying to think about what she could say. "So you were my neighbour before?" he asked, watching her and waiting. She didn't bring herself to meet his gaze just yet as she murmured her response, "Yeah, ever since 1940." The words hung in the air to no avail, no hint of recognition. She rose and strode towards the counter where a bottle of wine was, and she poured herself a generous amount. "You want any?"

"There's no point, the serum doesn't let me get intoxicated much."

"Hey, Asgardians have the same problem but it never stopped me," she smirked in his direction as she brought two glasses in her hands. This time she chose to sit opposite him, and passed him his glass. "Thor made me try this drink from Asgard once, I ended up passing out with the flask still in my hand." Buck chuckled as he sipped, almost snorting into the glass. "What I would give for some of that right now." he muttered before returning to his wine. Lara furrowed her brows as she thought of Bucky when he'd drink.

"You were such a lightweight back then. You'd be out of it after three, four shots? And we'd end up laughing our asses off in the streets–"

"We went out?" he interrupted, and for a moment the question made Lara wary of what he might be implying.

"What do you mean, went out?"

"I mean drinking, I don't remember going out for drinks much. Sounds like a fun time though."

"It was," she murmured, willing her heart to slow its rhythm. She swore she could hear the blood rush as if it were thumping in her head. She took a gulp of wine.

"I'm curious though. Did I even know you were an Asgardian before?"

"No," Lara replied blankly. "I move around a lot every few years, makes my ageing less… conspicuous."

"So I'm guessing we met by chance?" he asked, his eyes widening a little, looking nonplussed.

"You could say that. Around the time I moved in, I'd hear a ton of different things. People dancing to the jive or jazz players by night, honking cars and whistling pedestrians by day. Sometimes there was the occasional confrontation in some dark corner or wherever. I never thought much on that," Lara responded, taking a breath before she resumed. "But one night, I was walking by an alley and I saw a skinny blonde kid on the ground, completely knocked out. Then I saw another guy between the kid and the gang that beat him up so badly, he was dodging their punches and hitting back, but it was one against six or seven brutes. I figured he could use another person's help, so I intervened." She stared down her wineglass which was half full with bittersweet liquid. "A few minutes later, the jerks were either unconscious or running with their tails between their legs. After that, me and this guy brought the blonde boy back on his feet, even though he was dazed. And the guy I fought beside," Lara uttered as she shifted her gaze back to the man sitting opposite her. "That was you."

There was a silence hanging in the air between them, and Lara wondered about what could be going on in his head right now. _Maybe it triggered something. Maybe he doubts himself, or he can hardly recognise the person he used to be._ But she wasn't going to ask, she felt like it was too much, too soon. She couldn't quite place his reaction as he stared blankly at his hands which were resting on the table. He seemed lost, like someone trying to piece together the shards of something broken. Lara wordlessly reached for his hands with her own, slightly squeezing them as a soothing gesture. She could feel him tense at the touch for a moment, but he didn't tear his gaze away from the contact. "No one can understand what you're going through, Buck. But it doesn't mean we're gonna give up on you." His gaze met hers at the words, and there was a familiar kindness in his sapphire eyes and the tight smile playing on his mouth. This was the look he'd give her when she comforted him, and she couldn't help but remember the night he came home and told her about his capture during the war, before Steve saved him and the other imprisoned troops. He said that there was a scientist, but how was he to know then that he was a necessary test subject for Hydra? Dr. Arnim Zola only had to look at Bucky to see the potential which would be wielded, thwarted, manipulated.

"Something tells me you've had this conversation with me before," he spoke softly, barely above a whisper.

"Well yeah, especially when you'd make it back home after months in the field. You'd seen so many horrible things that you couldn't even talk about. Sometimes you didn't even look me in the eye, like you were ashamed or afraid of what I'd think," her mind was wondering back to the past again, she could picture it so vividly. How many times had she reminded him that he was more than enough, more than any man she'd ever met. "You went through a life in hell, and yet you're here now. That's all the more reason for you not to give up on yourself." She felt his right hand squeeze hers, and after a moment she pulled away. "I'll see you in the morning, Buck," she said as she pushed back her seat and stood. He followed shortly after. "Thanks, Lara."

"Always," she uttered in a low voice, just audible enough for him to hear before pacing to her room.

That word was the only response she saw fitting. "Always" was absolute, stubborn even. Just as stubborn as was her love for him, and the determination she possessed to keep that truth unsaid.

She moved to her twin bed and tugged a cushion to her chest, staring at the ceiling as she pondered over the chaotic confusion that was her day.

She couldn't bear the thought of watching him look at her blankly or confused after she'd admit that he once loved her. Because what were they to do then? There was no way of going back to the way things used to be, she knew that much. The last thing he needed was that long-forgotten bombshell. Lara was aware that his memories were resurfacing little by little, and another thought crossed her mind. What happens if _he_ remembers? But what could ensue was unpredictable. He was unpredictable. She pushed the idea away and dozed off in seconds, allowing exhaustion to take over.


	4. Stranger In A Strange Land

**Hey guys, sorry for taking so long to upload this chapter, I kind of had a block and there was this summer course that I just finished nd it took up a lot of my free time, but no worries cos I've got plenty more free time before uni starts! Anyways, thank you so much for reading, favouriting and following, it feels unreal but it's greatly appreciated! Enjoy!**

The morning after thankfully did not promise new surprises as Lara stirred herself awake. Her surroundings appeared clearer with the sunbeams which filled the room. It looked simple but elegant at the same time, a desk with a glass top, a white, glossy wardrobe, a tv set opposite her messy, unmade bed, and shelves occupied by books upon books. She wondered if they belonged to anyone specific. But her stomach rumbled, and she decided to make her way to the kitchen and cook something up. As she made her way through the hall, she could hear the sounds of footsteps pacing close by, and some clatter of objects. Lara assumed Steve was making breakfast, and imagined him following some unfamiliar recipe to the letter from the internet, and racking his brains a little while he was at it. But on passing through the entryway, she found a different figure busying himself with a pan on the stove across from her. Bucky's shaggy, dark brown hair was unmistakable, and she beamed at the sight of him making pancakes.

"What's shakin', bacon?" she called out before a yawn, her voice upbeat.

"Eggs, pancakes, toast, more pancakes," he trailed before turning his head slightly, "and undoubtedly, bacon."

"You certainly know how to keep busy." Lara remarked as she passed by the island in the kitchen.

"Yeah, well Winter Soldiers don't really get much time for cooking," his voice seemed neutral, but the gravity of his reply made the air around them more solemn.

"You need some help with the pancakes?" she asked, moving to his side and grabbing a ladle full of crêpe mixture. The silence was broken by the sizzle of a newly-added pancake.

She caught a hint of smile on his face as he flipped pieces of bacon and egg. "Thanks."

"I'm guessing that these are the French kind, right? I haven't had one of these in decades," she muttered, but he heard her well enough. She could sense a chuckle being stifled as he spoke.

"You're nuts to miss out on them," he mumbled, as if to himself. Then, for a moment, he was gone, time travelling to some distant memory, a forgotten life. "I remember trying them the first time in Lille, there was a small café that stood out. I didn't know what a crêpe was but I tried it anyway." Bucky paused, still cooking alongside Lara, who was tossing her second crêpe on its less crispy side.

"I think I had ten more after the first one," he added, squinting his eyes at the pan below him.

"Talk about a big breakfast," Lara could remember waking up to this wonderful smell of food, and how she'd often sneak up behind him while he was cooking in shorts, her arms encircling his chiseled chest, placing morning kisses on his shoulder… _You can't think about that now, it's not the same. You're hardly anything more than a stranger to him,_ she reminded herself, snapping back from the daydream of a memory. _To pick up from then, as if we could go seventy years back like nothing happened, it's just wrong._

Suddenly she could sense a coolness against her stomach, just grazing over her pelvis. She looked down to find his metal arm reaching out. She couldn't disguise the hint of confusion on her face as she stood unnaturally still, which she assumed caught Bucky's attention. "Sorry, I'm just getting the plates," he said as he bent over, reaching for the cupboard handle that was in front of her.

"Yeah, sure." At that, she backed away and busied herself with setting up the table. She almost knocked over a carton of juice when Steve made his wakeful entrance. "I thought I smelt bacon. What's with all this?" Steve asked, one hand gesturing to the table. "Bucky's got a craving for pancakes," Lara replied, pans clanking in the sink behind her.

The blonde soldier couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Really, Buck? First it was plums, now this?"

"You're not the only one who can cook, apparently," Buck replied, turning to face them with two tastefully blended plates in each hand. "Breakfast, anyone?" he inquired with a subtle, sheepish smirk on his angular face.

"No, you've got that wrong! You broke your leg before the dance, that's why Annie slapped you! You left the poor girl dateless," Steve was clarifying yet again.

"So I trip on the staircase, and I get bitchslapped for it? Who does that?" Buck interjected, his facial expression incredulous. By then, every dish looked like it was licked clean, and the trio were preoccupied with discussing the numerous injuries which Bucky sustained in high school.

"You know this may sound bad, but if I had this arm back then, I would have saved so much time from all the alley fights," he added, pointing at his shiny metal limb.

"Yeah, probably," Lara added, her fingers fidgeting with a twisted napkin. "Speaking of throwing punches, is one of you gonna show me where the training room is?"

"I thought your vigilante days were over, Lar," Steve commented, his eyebrows narrowing in something like uncertainty.

"Just cause the guard disbanded doesn't mean it hurts to be prepared," Lara pointed out before gulping down her orange juice. "Ugh, pulp," she managed, barely attempting to hide her repulsion as she rinsed off her glass in the sink.

"Come on, I'll take you to it," Bucky rose from his seat as Lara turned to face him, her expression grateful. "Lead the way, Barnes."

"I'll see you guys later, Sam's got something to run by me," Steve called out, turning to his phone as he spoke. "Hope I don't find anyone unconscious when I get back."

"Aye aye, Cap'n," Bucky muttered before making an exit, which made Lara smirk to herself as she followed.

* * *

She had been at it for a good half hour, her fists forcefully striking the worn-out punching bag as it hung from the ceiling. In the meantime, Buck was on the treadmill, almost as sweaty as she was. She felt unbearably hot in her grey tank top and baggy sweats, so she paused and went to find the A.C. switch. There was a faint whirring noise filling the room, and suddenly she changed her mind about boxing. T'challa's training room looked like a normal gym, but once she tested out the equipment, the settings in a normal gym were like child play to her. Back home, most punching bags wouldn't last more than ten minutes after Lara had a go, and she was so glad when she apprehended the sophistication around her.

Before long she found herself at Bucky's side on a nearby treadmill, slowly stepping up the level every minute or so. They ran in silence, only listening to the repetitive thuds of their feet against rubber. He looked lost in concentration as his limbs worked, a worn out black shirt loosely tugging at his muscular physique, chest barely heaving as he ran.

"You train here a lot?"

"Yeah, I tend to come down here early, when no one else is up," he replied, eyes trained on the panel in front of him.

Then he glanced at her momentarily. "Can I ask you something?" he mumbled,

"Sure," Lara replied, eyebrows narrowing just slightly.

"Did I ever make breakfasts like that for you?" his tone seemed genuinely curious.

Something in her stomach fluttered at the question, a fleeting sense of hope. _Did he trigger a memory? Does he remember?_

She looked back at him quizzically, unsure if she was hearing properly.

"You know, given that we were neighbours and all that," he clarified, still looking straight ahead, face expressionless.

What little hopefulness Lara possessed had plummeted like snow in an avalanche, it would crush her and bury her.

"Uh yeah, sometimes," she mustered all the nonchalance she could as she fidgeted with the treadmill settings, before hastily taking her leave.

"I need a shower." Feeling herself getting flustered, she kicked off the treadmill as it slowed, striding across the room in deafening silence.

* * *

It didn't take her long to get to the hallway of her room, and the stench of her sweat was all she could smell. Moments later she was inside, slipping out of her clothes, which she let fall to the floor without a thought. To her left of the entrance was the bathroom door, and she eagerly got the water running.

The water pressure was strong yet soothing, and steam ebbed away from the open shower. Lara stared through the glass as she wiped away some of the condensation. But the hot water racing over her body like a river did little to distract her from her mind. _What's the matter with you? You can't expect him to remember like that, and that's not why you're here,_ she argued against her earlier reactions, and then the familiar wonder resurfaced. _No, it was just a harmless question, nothing more,_ she thought. She always hated the notion of false hope, and at the moment it was the last thing she wanted to believe in, and the last thing she expected to find here.

Just as she watched the last of the soap drip away, she could hear a door creak through the endless patter of the shower. She shut off the water and stepped onto a mat, reaching for the nearest bathrobe as the next door clicked, ready to open. "Someone's in here!" she called out, but the knob was still turning. She turned her back to the door and yanked the robe till it was finally off its hook.

"Oh, shit!" a startled voice blurted out. A half-naked Lara was still putting her remaining arm in the robe, fastening it so its furry texture stuck to her skin like a soaked towel. She turned to find Bucky staring at her in confusion, maybe even befuddlement for a moment, pulling out his earbud headphones as he did.

"What are you doing here, Bucky?!" she managed to cry out.

"What am I doing, why were you in my shower?!" he yelled in surprise rather than anger, one hand gesturing to the shower.

Now he wasn't the only confused person in the room. "Your shower?" she repeated, a bemused expression on her face.

He nodded, and moved aside as she motioned to walk out the bathroom, taking in their surroundings. His room was plain like hers, no personal touches, nothing out of place. She hadn't unpacked much of anything in her room yet, but she recognised that this wasn't her room when she couldn't see her duffel bag lying around anywhere. If not for that, the rooms were practically inseparable.

"Sorry, must've gotten my room mixed up with yours," she muttered, running a hand through her knotted, dripping hair.

"Yeah, it's uh, it's fine," Bucky replied as he grabbed for the door, "I think you're the next one on the right." He was leaning against the door frame, looking outside and then down at her with sapphire eyes. He didn't appear as nonplussed now, but she felt like his mind was somewhere else.

His faded black tee full of sweat patches and his metal arm outstretched, holding the door behind them.

"I'll get you your robe back later," the words were an awkward murmur, averting his gaze as she walked into the hallway.

"Sure, see you later neighbour," his lips were pulled back into forming a smirk as he made his remark.

Suddenly the sense of embarrassment felt momentarily lifted, and she was smiling a little at how easily he took the edge off of the confusion.

"I see what you did there," she pointed out, eyes squinting at him jokingly, and his smirk didn't leave even as she turned and finally found herself in her room. _Four steps_ , she thought to herself. Their rooms were four steps apart from one another. And yet she still felt so far away from him.


	5. Stone In A River

**Firstly, I'd like to thank the people who reviewed my story, it truly means the world to me! Also, this chapter did take a while to get done but hopefully the next one won't take as long, hope you guys enjoy the direction it's taking!**

Once she got dry, sleep had gotten the better of Lara. Hours went by as she lay on her stomach, and though her eyes were shut, she could sense a dimness around her. It might have been the late afternoon or nighttime for all she knew. But suddenly she felt a cool sensation on one of her thighs, and small circles being traced on her shoulder. Her eyes flew open to find the unmistakable metal limb gripping at her leg, and now she could feel his pronounced, chiselled chest beneath her, while the human hand was pulling back a stray lock of her hair away from her cheek. Panic was plaguing her mind yet she lay still, as if she had no control of her naked body, entwined with his own. Questions formulated but her mouth refused to express them, she felt like she was made of marble.

Then the dreaded realisation came into perspective when she rose up from slumber, her skin covered in a sheen of cold sweat, gasping for air like she was being suffocated. She was alone, waking up from what seemed like a dream, but she knew better than that. One hand covered her mouth while the other was bunched in the sheets, and her head burnt like a raging fire was set off in her skull. In the dim light of her room, the truth was staring her plain in the face. Lara's only recollection of waking up in this manner was when she dreamt the future, the power she evaded for seventy years. _It's not a prediction, it's not a prediction_ , she repeated to herself, _only a dream_. Her eyes were staring into the vastness outside the french window of her room, pitch dark with wisps of grey from the smog. _Who the hell am I kidding?_ she asked herself as she burrowed her head into her hands, her knees bent to her chest. Lara didn't know how much time had passed before her eyelids grew heavy with sleep again.

* * *

It was late evening when she caught a glimpse of something unfamiliar. It was a slip of paper, halfway under the doorway. Lara knelt for it, uncertain of what she'd find. It was a note from Steve. Sitting at the edge of her bed, she read the short message.

 _Lara,_

 _I'm sorry I couldn't have told you this in person, but I'm going to Belgium with Sam for a few days. The king has reason to believe there's an assassination plot, and that Hydra may be behind it. We're going to make sure that doesn't happen. I know you're capable of handling yourself in Wakanda, but if things get hard or Bucky gets worse, don't leave him. I know it's a lot to ask of you but I don't think the doctors can handle him on their own._

 _Steve._

Setting the note down, she made her way to the bathroom, combing through the tangle of hair with her slim fingers, her unseeing eyes meeting those in a mirror's reflection. Brushing her teeth, she wondered if Bucky knew about the turn of events already, or how he felt about Lara being the babysitter. "Great," the word was a gurgle from her mouth before spitting into the sink.

* * *

The frustration that was seeping into Lara's movements as she cut away chunks of pineapple wasn't a response to the situation she found herself in. She'd feel responsible for Bucky even if Steve hadn't asked her to watch out for him. It had more to do with her fear of how she'd act around him, given the night's premonition. Would she distance herself, or act like she never dreamt of it at all? Before she could decide which was best, she could hear the parquet creak slightly, but she didn't dare turn around.

"Let me guess, fruit salad?" was the husky voice which belonged to Barnes.

"Nope, smoothie," she muttered plainly, trying to guise the edge in her tone from being startled.

The super soldier peered over her shoulder a little more, his mouth strangely and unbearably close to her ear. Then he spoke the words like a whisper. "When where you gonna tell me, Lar?"

Her body froze at the question, the kitchen knife in her hand making a final strike through the fruit, and she thought that the cutting board had split into two.

"About us?" she managed. She could feel his breath on her neck, and the familiarity could have made her dizzy had she not been so taken aback. Bucky stepped back, pacing around the table, hands tightly clenching the chair in front of him.

Lara was racking her brain, trying to work out what to say, but then as she turned to face him, she couldn't bring herself to omit the truth anymore.

"You think I didn't want to tell you? About any of it?"

"Well, it didn't seem like you were planning to any time soon!" his voice was raised in anger, but his eyes spoke of something else. She thought it a pained look of betrayal.

"Look, I'm not here to resume whatever it was that we had, I still care about you, but the fact that your memory's not all there…" For a moment, she was lost for words, but he didn't try to interrupt. "What was I meant to do, Buck? Tear my heart out for you so you look at me like I'm a stranger? Because unless you remembered, then that's what would have happened," she drew in a deep breath before she continued, "When everyone thought you died, I didn't know if or how I was going to come back from that. But if I told you who I really was, I'd be giving in to two seconds of naïvety, some fragment of faith that you hadn't forgotten me. That's what I can't come back from," Lara's nails dug under the counter behind her, her white knuckles numb. Her exasperated expression was unwavering even as she noticed his own softening a little.

The super soldier opened his mouth, yet nothing was spoken. His blue irises were searching her own, as if the answers he sought were in her gaze. The silence they shared was loud enough for her, there was nothing more to say. Upon that deduction, without a word she resolutely strode past and out of the kitchen, and her pace did not falter until she was in her room, her back against the bedroom door as she sank to the carpeted floor.

* * *

The biting chill of the night's breeze was the closest thing to relief for Lara, standing in one of the few balconies she could find in a thin silk slip. Most nights, the moon seemed welcoming to her, full of wonder. Tonight she couldn't care less as she gazed out into the endless abyss of jungle, wishing she were anywhere else in this moment. Somewhere far away from him, from Brooklyn, from every reminder of a past life gone. How futile that sounded, when she remembered their endless talks of planned trips, travelling all over this realm. At some point she even thought of asking him to see Asgard with her, after she'd explain her heritage. But that discussion never came. And now, bandages were being torn off of raw flesh and deep wounds, against anyone's other preferences. It didn't even occur to her as to how he suddenly remembered some aspect of their history, all she could think of was how any form of relationship was to be salvaged, if any. Would he look at her with cold, distant eyes, full of disdain? Was that the punishment she deserved for guarding her heart, sparing it the rejection, and him the embarrassment or shock? _Yes_ , she thought, _yes._

"If you're planning on freezing your ass off, you're welcome to use the cryostasis chamber."

Inhaling deeply, she refused to turn and face the super soldier just yet. "Is this your way of mocking me, or just pointing out that you don't want me here?" she said, words icily leaving her lips.

She could sense him drawing near her, till he was beside her, hands on the railing as he took in the gloomy view ahead.

"More like an attempt of sorts," he replied, still as a marble sculpture. From the corner of her eye, he didn't seem as tense as she had last seen him.

"An attempt at what?" her voice held a hint of intrigue among her air of nonchalance, which did little to guise her irritation.

"Remembering," he simply uttered as he turned to face her, and after a moment she was staring back at him, in his metal hand a copy of "Casablanca," and flat packets of microwavable popcorn in the other.


	6. Old Flame

_"Old flame,_

 _You're still the one that holds me_

 _Can't you feel it burning?_

 _Can't you feeling it burning still?_

 _Old flame,_

 _Fell for your inferno_

 _Where did all the love go?_

 _Can't you feel the wind blow you closer to me?"_

* * *

Astonished as she was, Lara was still able to speak. "You hated that film," she uttered almost inaudibly.

"But you loved it," he replied, returning her gaze with a transparent intent, then examined the film's cover, "and correct me if I'm wrong, but it was one of our dates, I think."

"You're joking, right?" Her eyes were wide with incredulity, unblinking. "You want to relive our first date? That's what you're saying?"

"Only if you want to," there was a sincerity in his look that she recognised, it was how he looked at her after a horrible premonition had stirred her awake, which she passed off as a bad dream. He was helpless then, unable to understand the extent of her nightmares, but he did what he could to make her feel safe. In a similar way, they were helpless, far from understanding each other's pain, but he was trying. That was more than enough to make her want to do the same.

"Okay, but this time, I pick the seats," she was straight-faced but Bucky couldn't hold back a smile, and eventually they found themselves in the living room sitting inches apart, munching popcorn as they watched the movie in silence.

Halfway through the film, Lara got up to refill her glass of fizzy water, hoping that her unease would diminish when she heard Buck call out to her. "You're missing the best part so far, Lar."

She had seen that movie more times than she liked to admit, but she knew which bit he was referring to.

"I'm coming, don't get your pants in a twist."

She made her way back to the leather couch, were they remained for almost another slightly awkward hour.

* * *

"You're sure that's what I said?" Bucky inquired to Lara, his human arm reaching for his glass.

"I distinctly recall you telling me that it was the Frankenstein's monster of moving pictures," she replied, her white teeth bared as she laughed at the recollection.

"Yeah, I really don't get how I could have thought that, I loved it."

"Well, you tend to appreciate things more with age, old man," she nudged him jokingly, as if the mass of tension she felt had never existed.

"And it was seriously our first date?" he was glancing at her with his eyebrows raised.

"Mm-hm, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to go out with a guy who compared 'Casablanca' to a deformed monster."

A stillness fell between them for a moment, breaking eye contact. He seemed to be drifting into his thoughts as he fidgeting with his hands absentmindedly.

"You know how I remembered?" his face was obscured by the length of his near jet-black hair, like the moon blanketed by the mist outside. Lara almost felt unable to speak, so she shook her head as she managed a "no."

He sighed. "The tattoo on your shoulder blade, it was faded but I could still make out the outline." She raised her head to him, unsure of what he was talking about.

"What tattoo?" she asked as she peeled the shirt's sleeve from one shoulder and then the other. Then she saw it, the brand of the guard, one that was meant to be a bestowal of honour. Instead it was simply a reminder of what had never truly been, which she ignored for years.

"You saw it when I got out of your shower," she deducted, cringing a little as she pointed it out. She could see the irony of how he had remembered some part of her body which she had forgotten about entirely. He was looking back at her now, the simple affirmation on his lips. "Yeah."

The night couldn't hide the small circles under his eyes, or the dilation of his pupils as they maintained their gaze. If holding everything back proved futile, as it had, then Lara would use a different approach.

Before she knew what she was doing, the woman steadily bridged the inches between them, holding her breath as someone who was about to leap into the unknown. But he wasn't unknown to her. Their faces were almost touching, no hint of hesitation in his features, only stillness. She leaned closer till her lips were gently pressed against his, willing herself not to cry as she sensed tears welling behind tightly shut eyes. There was a small pressure with the soft reciprocation of his kiss, but before it had the chance to progress, Lara abruptly pulled away.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have," she muttered, pushing herself off the sofa, averting Bucky's surprised expression as she hurried away. The rush of it all made her head spin to the point where she didn't notice the thud of footsteps following closely behind her. A metallic grip was tight on her arm, but it wasn't painful as much as it was determined. She froze in her tracks, glancing back at the hold he had on her wrist before lifting her hazel irises to his, the white of her eyes red with guilt and regret, tears threatening to escape. "I should never have stopped looking for you Buck, if I'd known…"

"How can you put that on yourself? What could you have possibly done, Lara?" The surprise was clear in his baffled expression, and he attempted to stroke her cheek with his thumb, but her hands were on his wrist, pushing him away.

"Of course I blame myself," her voice cracked under the weight of her words, and she inhaled sharply as she took a step back. "I get premonitions. I see things unfold before they happen, especially if I look out for them, if I set my mind on specific things, people, places." Her fingers were running through her hair harshly, staring into nothing as she continued.

"I used to keep an eye on you when you were away, in case something would go wrong. I watched when they tortured you the first time but I couldn't tell where you were, and even if I did, who'd believe me? If I said something to the wrong person then I knew I'd wind up being imprisoned or in some psych ward," she looked at him momentarily, with eyes that pleaded for an understanding she felt she didn't deserve. _I was too busy worrying about being locked up to do anything… And look where that got him._

"But when I saw you fall from the train… There was no way of getting through to you or Steve, it was the future but it was written." Lara's eyes were closed in her reminiscing, still painfully vivid no matter how many years passed. The same helplessness that was written on his face when he fell, in her mind, as fate snatched him away from her, and left him in the sinister cold of winter. Then she finally looked to him, waited for some interjection, some expression of disillusionment, something that conveyed how she truly let him down, left to be torn apart and pieced together over and over again. She felt overwhelmed by her self-condemnation, she felt like it was suffocating her as she struggled to speak.

"I didn't ever want to know what pain the future promised again, so I stopped using my abilities. But if I hadn't, then maybe I would have seen what Hydra were going to do to you, I could've done something-"

Her words were lost as Bucky crashed his mouth to hers, kissing her deeply. His human hand was on her shoulder, making its way to the nape of her neck as his metallic limb snaked along her spine, holding her close at the waist. It took her back to the times when he'd kiss her worrying and fretting away without a moment's thought. For a second she could believe that nothing had changed, like he had just come home from a lengthy tour of duty, and they would relish every moment they had. But here she was, tears streaming down her face as she returned his fervour lovingly, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. His lips moved to her jawline, all the way up to her ear, his arms hugging her to him.

"Don't you dare blame yourself, for any of it, okay? It wasn't your fault, you weren't the one who did this to me, you loved me," he whispered through her hair, but nothing could mask or blur the sincerity in his tone. He wasn't forgiving her, because there was nothing to forgive. "I still do," Lara's face was pressed against him, buried in the crook between his neck and shoulder, but Bucky could still make out her words.

He stroked her hair comfortingly, lightly kissing her head as they remained in their embrace. Lara could feel herself give in, melt into the sensation of unforgotten affection, overcoming all resistance and blame that plagued her, prevented her from having even a shred of happiness ever since she arrived in Wakanda. She lifted her head until it rested against his own, and she could hear the sudden calmness of his breathing. She leaned in till her mouth was on his, fingers losing themselves in his hair, and in his kiss a yearning she was not familiar with.

"If you don't want to," he murmured in between kisses, as if they were bound to suffocate without one another, "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, in any way," he held her face in his palms, eying her for any sign of doubt or unease, but she had let go of all that now.

"I want to," she replied, her voice a soft whisper, "but go slow, I… it's been…"

"Seventy years?" he interjected, his face beaming just slightly as he let a little grin form.

All she could do was nod, and moments later she found herself leading Bucky by the hand, through the darkness of the halls.

* * *

The only light that illuminated their surroundings and shapes was the looming dawn, and as they stood at the edge of the bed, Lara was pulling at his shirt till it was over his head and tossed thoughtlessly to the floor. Then she could make out the scars on his body, tracing over one with her fingers. She felt the spot where metal met flesh, and almost instinctively she was placing light kisses on his shoulder, and she could sense a chill on her spine as Bucky tucked her tee upward. She stepped back, allowing herself to stand before him with her chest bare, and watched as he took her in. He bridged the gap between them as his lips collided with hers, his hands trailing all over her as her own made for his trousers. She lost track of how long she had been struggling with the buttons until she felt coarse hands aiding hers. She felt his hardness against her hand as she brushed off his pants, which Bucky kicked to the side and reached for her backside, pushing her white shorts down till they were in nothing but undergarments.

Attempting to step out of the heap of clothes at her feet, Lara hit her leg against the bed which made her stumble, bringing Bucky to crash with her. She let out a giggle as he held himself above her, his hair curtained their faces from everything else that was around them, and one hand reached up to stroke his head, slowly, affectionately. He lowered himself to her, resting on his elbows as he kissed her lightly, their closed lips lingering, and then he broke away to kiss her neck, her collarbone, trailing his way to her breasts, massaging one while biting the other playfully, her nipples aching as they hardened against his touch. She could not suppress her moans even if she wanted to, and she didn't care. One hand was lost in his locks, unable to let go as he continued to move down, placing feather kisses on her stomach, her inner thighs, until he was mere inches away from her black lace. She almost gasped at the touch of his metal hand tugging at the material, its coolness foreign to the heat of their bodies. In moments she was completely exposed, and she could feel the desire pulse through her, and anxiousness took hold in the pause. There was a second where their eyes met, with looks that spoke of a devotion she had never known with anyone else.

And then he was biting at her thigh again, while his human thumb was circling her clit, his lips moving closer to her entrance with a painful slowness that made her insides clench. And without warning, his mouth was on her, kissing where his thumb had been while the same hand was feeling through her wetness, and she was in a known ecstasy that he had irreversibly scored on her memory. Her sighs and moans grew more frequent, and she held back none of it when his fingers were inside of her, pushing against her walls leisurely in a way that made her head spin until he quickened the pace.

"Bucky, please, oh…" her hands were gripping tightly at the sheets and at his hair, so he knew just how much she needed him. She could sense her peak drawing closer with every lick and stroke he inflicted on her sex, but suddenly she was overcome with a stronger desire that surprised even herself. Lara sat upright, reaching for him till his body was above hers, aligned so perfectly that it was easy for her to push him over, leaving him on his back, as she tasted herself on his breathless lips, her hips grinding ever so slowly against his.

Eager to release him from his constraints, she pulled him free of his boxers till Bucky was able to kick them off effortlessly. His hands were on Lara's back, and she welcomed the cold sensations on her spine as she lowered herself onto him, gently biting his lower lip. He moaned his pleasure on her lips, and then against the crook of her neck, nipping at it while she moved her body, gyrating atop him. And then she saw the love in his eyes as he stroked her face, louder than any words that could have been said. She froze for a moment, and he stole the opportunity to roll them over till she was under him again, but she didn't mind. Instead her legs were around his waist, and he pushed himself into her, feeling nails digging in his shoulders as she met his fervour.

With every stroke he gave, their pulsing releases drew nearer and breathless as she was, she pulled Bucky down to her, her murmur barely a whisper, "I love you, James." Lara could feel her walls aching around him, awaiting the peak of their passion. He kissed her at the words.

"I love you too, beautiful."

She could feel him throbbing inside her, and his thrusts quicker, and so her body caved to the waves of pleasure, washing over her as it took control. Watching Lara succumb to her release was enough to bring Bucky to his own, his voice huskily moaning her name in her ear like it was sacred, and her thighs quivering as he came with a final stroke.

They were still locked in each other's arms after coming down from their ecstasy, Lara laying her head on his chest, his breathing slowing down with hers. "You know, of all the second chances I've ever gotten," Bucky whispered against her forehead, "this is the best one."

"Me too."

He gently placed a kiss on her head, their bodies so comfortably entwined. She had finally found him, and she knew that this was where she wanted to remain, by the side of the man she loved endlessly, who she'd love for eternity.

 **A/N: To all the followers, people who favourited or reviewed this fic: THANK YOU SO MUCH! I hope you've enjoyed where it's gotten to so far, it's been so much fun writing this chapter so please let me know what you think :D Also the italics at the beginning are lyrics from Kimbra's "Old Flame".**


	7. Follow Me Down

**Hey everyone! Sorry it's been a month since the last chapter, but thank you so much for sticking around. I hope you enjoy this one.**

* * *

It wasn't until the sun had made its presence known in the murky ambience that Lara stirred awake. Her eyes took him in, soundlessly asleep, his chest rising and falling like waves caressing a shore, his limbs hugging her body against his as she lay atop him. She turned her head to look at the alarm clock beside the bed. It read 06:52. Slowly she lifted herself off of Bucky, and quietly made her way to the kitchen.

Half an hour later she returned with a breakfast tray, and wasn't surprised to find him as he was. She gently placed it on the bed before curling up next to Bucky, kissing his lips lightly till he responded, kissing her back lazily. She pushed him back to the pillows in his attempt to hold her to him, which earned her a groan from her drowsy lover. "Uh-uh, I didn't just juice six plums for nothing."

His eyes widened as he glanced eagerly at the tray of eggs on toast, pancakes, and the blood red jar of plum juice, and simply raised his head till his lips brushed against hers once again. "You had me at plums," he murmured, cheekily flashing her a grin.

It wasn't long before Lara's work was reduced to crumbs and empty glasses, yet they were so lost in conversation that neither of them noticed.

"You have any idea when they come back?" the woman inquired, arms hugging her knees to her as she sat opposite him.

"The King has another week for sure, but the others. I guess it depends on the threat."

"Or lack thereof," she mused.

"You know there's a garage with like a couple of Harley Davidsons?"

"Like the one you had?"

"Yeah," he gave her a decisive smirk. "You wanna go for a drive?"

* * *

The lights flickered till they could see the large space occupied by a ridiculous number of vehicles. Bucky led Lara amongst the fancy cars until they reached the familiar motorbikes.

"You sure the King won't mind?" she asked curiously.

"Nope, that's why we're taking Steve's. I guess it was a royal gesture or something," he replied as he eased himself onto the vehicle, his hands gripping at the handles. He was rummaging through his pockets for the keys while she sat behind him, arms wrapping around his waist till she encircled him completely. The engine rumbled under them, loud enough to make Bucky shout over the sound. "You ready?"

"Pretty much," she yelled back over his metal shoulder.

And without another moment's thought, Bucky sped them through the garage, through which he navigated the way to the exit.

Once they were out on the driveway, the engine revved under Bucky's control. Lara leaned into him as she gazed at the world around her. The trees towered above them, greener than ever as the grey mist receded, a change that Lara was thankful for. It was easier to see the paths that opened up before them, and she could hear the leaves rustle in the wind from the bike's force.

"You okay?" she shouted against his ear.

"Yeah, you?"

"I'm good, just remembering that one time we drove through town on one of these and I wound up swallowing a fly."

"Seriously?" Bucky blurted out in disbelief. "Wait, was that right after a Christmas party?"

"Close, New Year's."

He scoffed light-heartedly, "Close enough," Lara could feel his ribs shake ever so slightly from chuckling, her chest pressed tightly to his back.

The sound of the waterfalls grew louder, like thunder. She figured they were nearing one as he drove through a seemingly endless road paved through ferns. As if they shared the same mind, the bike slowed gradually until the fall came into view. Lara hopped off of the vehicle and treaded through the natural chaos of plants that separated them from what lay ahead. She cleared the way for Bucky to pass with the motorbike. Finally, her breath hitched, she was at a loss for words. Even in all the gloom and relentlessly murky weather, it was truly a sight.

Water rushed over the edges of the overhanging rocks, plunging with such force into a sizeable pool of clear liquid, all the while retaining a serenity that Lara couldn't describe. Asgardians dreamed of their own paradise in Valhalla, but for her, this little piece of Midgard was theirs. She stretched out her hand for Bucky's but found herself grabbing at air. Lara turned to find him tossing his jacket over the bike, and was about to strip off his shirt when their eyes met. "You better not throw me in," she remarked, catching the hint of mischief written on his face.

"Can't make promises I won't keep, doll," he uttered through the fabric of his top as he pulled it over himself. The last thing she wanted was to spend the ride back in drenched clothing. Without a moment's hesitation, she yanked at her shoes, then her jeans, shirt, till she was in nothing but her underwear, which coaxed a trace of surprise from Bucky, whose lips were slightly parted, his hands still on his belt, frozen on the spot. It was as if he had never seen her body before, and the way they stared at each other, it was as if one was daring the other.

Before he could make a sound or movement, she turned towards the the edge of the pool, languidly freeing herself from her last garment and dived into what resembled a sea of emerald. The clarity enveloped her as she looked around, every crevice and fissure sharpened. Just as she was about to resurface, she felt a cold and warm sensation on either side of her body, and arms snaking around her waist. She twisted herself around, still within the embrace, and knowingly let her mouth crash against Bucky's, his tongue just teasing contact at hers.

Even as they emerged from the sheen of rippling liquid, their lips were still locked onto one another, kissing hungrily, as though they craved each other more than the air that presently filled their lungs again. Lara's hands explored his chiseled physique as his fingers trailed over her sides and back to the nape of her neck. There were no material barriers, he was just as bare, vulnerable to no one but her. Without warning, his fist was lost in her hair, tugging her head gently to one side, his mouth moving to the exposed skin under her jaw. The woman moaned at the contact, yet she was just as eager to please as she reached down for him, one hand slowly stroking while the other roamed over the warmth of his chest.

"Oh, Lar," he growled lowly in her ear, "the things I wanna do to you right now." She kissed him hard at the words. Her grip on his sex tightened, her movements swifter, which earned her more groans as he throbbed in her palm.

But before she could bring him to his release, Bucky's hands clenched around her legs, twisting their bodies in the water so he was pressing her against the side of the rock pool, and though it wasn't the smoothest of surfaces, she was too lost in Bucky's touch to care. His mouth pulled away, and his grey-blue eyes bore into hers, dilated from the craze that she brought out of him. Water trickled down his forehead, and she watched a drop streak its way to his lips. In that moment, her hands reached for him, bringing him to her again as they bunched in his locks, her mouth over his, ravenous as her need grew. Already wrapped around his hips, her legs tensed in her plea, at which he responded fervently.

She moaned more audibly as he entered her, and the initial pain subsided from the pleasure he wrought within her, her body adjusting to his. His movements pulsed through her steadily, though it was enough to make her lightheaded. Murmuring his name, she ground her hips with his, her hands knotted in his hair more forcefully, clinging to him as desire took hold of her being. He bit her lip hard before deepening their kiss, one hand clutching at the rock behind her while the other stroked the bud between her thighs, coaxing obscenities from her lips which became muffled as she buried her face in his shoulder. Her end coursed through her body, her waist contracting uncontrollably as all control over her being was momentarily lost, yet she could sense Bucky's pulses lose their rhythm, followed by the sudden heat of his release, flowing in her loins.

Their ragged breathing finally slowed to a steady pace, both of them still entwined.

"And here I thought we were gonna get some sightseeing done," Lara remarked, now facing Bucky, whose face lit up with a facade of confusion.

"Aren't you looking at one?" he asked, before his smirk made its appearance. Before either of them could speak, she flicked her wrist over the water's surface, laughing at his reaction as it splashed him. Instead of returning the sentiment, he ran his fingers over her stomach, tickling her in the places he remembered would provoke her. By the time their hysterics wore off, they wound up lying on the rocks, engaged in endless conversation in the afternoon heat.


	8. Blood In The Water

**Hey guys! Sorry it's been a while (I just started uni and there's a ton of things I wish weren't happening right now but what can you do) anyways I did a short chapter because I'm working on the next one already so hopefully I'll be putting that one up sooner than later.**

* * *

Bucky awoke in the middle of the night, smiling to himself as he found Lara's head nestled against his chest. They had arrived back at the compound, their sudden cravings for pizza satisfied, leaving them sound asleep on a couch, curled up in one another. He raised his torso ever so slightly, trying to get a better angle as he scooped her up effortlessly. He let her down gently onto the mattress of her bed, and as he watched her sprawl over it, decided he'd rather not nudge her in case she woke up.

His dreams however, did not leave him so peaceful. He was back at war, under the hands of Dr. Zola, prodded, electric shocks charging through his scarred flesh, worn out, conditioned to terminate. Suddenly it hit him all at once, flashing images of his missions, his targets, lifeless in his metallic grasp. An unfamiliar memory arose. A boy, about seven years old, caught in the crossfire, his limp body tangled amidst the rubble. He walked away from the havoc he wrought, emotionless, his only concern was returning to the Hydra base. It was all a vicious cycle that never ceased, and now all the remorse that he was unable to feel then, it washed over him, determined to drown him…

"James, wake up! Wake up!" His body was being shook, a sudden warmth around his neck. Almost immediately he opened his eyes to find a concerned Lara beside him. The alarm in her expression was all he could see.

"Wha-" he began, breathless, cold sweat trickling down his cheeks. He gasped for air, he realised his human arm was trembling. Unable to bring himself to meet her gaze, he buried his face in his hands. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," his muffled voice echoed through the room. Lara enveloped him in a tight embrace, pulling his hands away so he would look at her. "It wasn't you doing all those things, you didn't have control James." He felt helpless, undeserving of her, of being alive when he had ended the lives of so many. And yet she pulled him close, hugging him to her body.

"It wasn't you," she repeated soothingly, and she could sense his breathing slowing, rubbing his back.

"Steve said the same thing," he muttered softly, though the pained look in his eyes was sharply defined.

"And he's right," Lara whispered resolutely. "Was it about the Starks?"

"Pieces, but it wasn't just them… It's all in pieces," he became frustrated, his hands clenched into fists, tears welling in his eyes.

"There was this boy," he continued, "he was walking down the road where my mission was. He was driving but I had a clear shot so I took it, a few seconds later his car rams the kid into a shopping window." Suddenly they both seemed lost for words.

"I was made to be an efficient killer, all that mattered was that it was done. And he," he stared into nothing, biting down on his lower lip as if he couldn't speak. His eyes were red, a spot of blood on his mouth. "He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Soundlessly, Lara slowly motioned towards him till her arms wrapped around him. His tears ran hot on his face, his breathing uneven and hard. There was nothing to say, so they remained holding onto one another for as long as he needed. He didn't have to ask her to stay, it was the last thing that would have crossed her mind.

"I'm here," she whispered against his forehead. "I'm here."


	9. Haunt Of The Hunter

Bucky stood outside the medical exam room, where he had spent his first few days in Wakanda. _What's there to lose?_ he thought to himself as he knocked before entering.

"James! How are you feeling?" Dr. Ramsien greeted him cheerfully, rising from behind her desk.

"That's what I came to talk about," he replied, frowning at the ground for a moment. Her eyes narrowed, and she tugged back a loose strand of her chestnut brown hair.

"Sounds like it's not going all too well. Please sit down, make yourself comfortable." She gestured to the exam table, so he lay on it. The white room was so bright it made him wince for a moment.

"It's nightmares, I wake up at the least once every night, I'm always shaking."

"Every night?"

"There was one time I didn't," he mused, but in his mind there was little doubt why.

"Did you tell Steve about the nightmares?" she asked, scribbling something on her notepad.

"He has an idea, but he hasn't got back, or even Sam or King T'Challa for that matter."

"Still away at that conference, huh? Well, do you have anyone who can keep an eye on you when you have your nightmares?"

"Yeah, I've got Lara, but I'm scared I'll lash out in my sleep or something," he admitted, his expression somewhat solemn. The thought of causing harm again, and of all people, her…

The doctor returned to her desk as she gave her reply.

"Well, you shouldn't really concern yourself with that."

Bucky couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, "How can I not worry about this?"

Immediately after the last syllable left his lips, metal bands emerged from the arm rests, wrapping around his wrists. Overwhelmed with panic and haunting memories, he tried to yank his metal limb free but it wouldn't budge. His legs were tied by more metal, so was his stomach.

"I meant to say, you won't be lashing out in your sleep, that's no fun," she remarked, a malicious smirk playing on her face. Then he saw it in her hands, the book that made him a murderous pawn. He cried out and yelled, even though for all he knew, every staff member was involved in this.

"Don't waste your energy, the room's soundproof." She fiddled with a panel, and the electrocuting mechanism made its presence known as it covered his left eye and the bottom of his face. He thought of his life before, the first time he met Steve, when he was out there saving the world with the Howling Commandoes, waking up next to Lara. He didn't want to forget.

The electricity jolted through his body, numbing him to the core with pain, each shock worse than the one before. His cries were like wounded growls, his voice growing hoarse and harsh. He felt like he was being suffocated with how desperately he was gasping for air. When the silence finally came, he could hear liquid dripping from his human hand as it splattered on the ground. He was worn down but he was shaking with the fear of what was to come. The detachment, the violence, the agility of the hunter.

She stood over him as she spoke the words in Russian, clearly and determined, like she was voicing commands. He shut his eyes.

"Longing. Rusted. Seventeen. Daybreak. Furnace. Nine. Benign. Homecoming. One. Freight car."

There was a pause before the doctor demanded the assurance of his subordination. "Good morning soldier."

There was no hesitation when he made his answer.

"Ready to comply."

* * *

Lara was fiddling through the pages of a dated astronomy book, carefully turning the crisp pages as delicately she could. She wondered how long it would be like this, this little getaway from reality. The thought of going back to Brooklyn with Bucky both excited and confused her. _Maybe it would just make the memories worse_ , she thought inwardly. Seeing him the way she had that night, helpless and ridden with guilt, it seemed all too familiar to the days of the past. But she knew it was uncharted territory, fighting in a war was one thing, being a winter soldier was something else entirely. Then she heard the soft padding of feet across the parquet, and turned to look at Buck. The book fell out of her hands.

His eyes were impassive, his lips a tight line, his hair tussled so that it hung over his face. Wordlessly motioning towards her, he yanked and tossed furniture aside, clearing the straight path to her like a hurricane. The disbelief she felt almost froze her to the spot, but she was able to suspend it as she ran to the hall. There was no way she was going to reason with him. Lara sprinted as quickly as her legs would carry her through winding corridors, Bucky barely a few feet behind her. She came across the kitchen, darted inside and barred the door with the mahogany table. Rummaging through whatever she could use to get him out of his strange state, her palms gripped the handle of a pan and in the corner of her eye she could glimpse Bucky reducing the door to splinters. Within moments he was shoving the table out of his way effortlessly, prepared to lunge at her, but she was quick enough to hit him face first. Stunned for barely a second, she harshly pressed her advantage once more and he collapsed at her feet, unconscious. Lara let the pan clang on the floor as she knelt beside him, her mind still wrapping around the transgression that had occurred.

 _He looked so cold, like he wasn't himself, why would he do this?_ It was different from the first time he saw her in Wakanda, there was rage in his countenance, he perceived her as a threat he was trying so desperately to escape. But only moments ago, he was cool, poised, indifferent. _Something triggered him_ , she realised now, _someone in here brought this on_. It was clear to her that they were not safe in the compound, whether it was a Hydra operative or not, she wasn't going to stick around to find out. She had to get them out of here.

* * *

There was a strange rumbling noise and a breeze hitting his face, it matted his hair and suddenly he could sense the searing pain shoot up his temple. One hand rubbing his eyes awake, the cold metallic one pressing against his forehead, he could hear the sound of screeching tires. His eyes widened in shock as he turned to face the driver, who was aiming something at his face, but he wasn't sure if he was seeing properly.

"Is that a pan?" he asks, incredulous. "What are you holding a pan in my face for?!" His voice was louder as he attempted to understand why Lara was giving him a worried look. She set down the pan and collapsed into the driver's seat. "I think you became the soldier again, Buck," she admitted, and then quickly interjected "You didn't hurt me or anything like that, I just knocked you out for a bit, hence the pan." She gestured at the object as she tucked it under the seat.

"What?" it was all he could say, suddenly overwhelmed by the thought, what he could have done…

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"I tried to kill you?" He processed the words as they spoke the truth, a reality he was forced to accept. The one person he loved most and he almost executed her like she was nothing. In the silence, she squeezed his motionless hand.

"Please, just trust me Buck. It wasn't you, you would never do something like that to anyone, but I'm assuming someone else wanted the _other_ guy back and me out of the way."

Still he remained silent, unable to even conjure a string of words that expressed how he felt, how sorry he was.

Unsure of what she could do, she lifted her palm to his face, tenderly pushing his locks behind his ear. He grabbed her hand, holding it tightly.

"I don't deserve this," he murmured before tilting against her touch, "I don't deserve you."

"Hey," she retorted, "I'm yours whether you like it or not." She leaned towards him, planting a reassuring kiss on his cheek. His jaw tensed, the tight line of a smile subtly replacing a frown.

"And besides," she continued, "Nat told me about how she knocked a brainwashed Clint unconscious, figured I'd resort to that." Lara shrugged her shoulders and turned the key in the car's ignition.

"Yeah, I'm sure she used a cutting board in her efforts."

They were both stifling their laughter until it was futile, driving down the road ahead.


	10. Revival Of The Snake

**A/N: Hey everyone! I'm really sorry I took a while with this but I'm a horrible multi-tasker and uni's been somewhat hectic lately. Anyways, hope you enjoy the latest addition, and thank you for being so patient!**

* * *

The motel they had found was quite a distance away from the Wakandan monarch's compound, isolated and inconspicuous, or at least, Lara hoped. It was late afternoon when they checked in under the aliases Martha and Jonathan Crane.

"Do you have a room preference, Miss?" a tall, young receptionist inquired, turning to face the monitor in front of him.

"No, any is fine." Bucky stood near the entrance, utterly oblivious to everything else as he stared at the television screen opposite him in shock. It read "12 FATALITIES AT BRUSSELS CONFERENCE". Once Lara had gotten the key, she spun on her heels towards him.

"All set," she announced, dangling the key before him, yet she noticed how entranced he was. He quickly turned to her, and discreetly gestured at the screen with his gloved metal hand. She followed his gaze and suddenly understood why he looked worried, a feeling she shared instantly.

"…not enough information has been made available due to the chaos of the attack, however sources confirm that seven males and five females were unresponsive to the efforts of paramedics, the identities of said victims have not been released as of yet. The evacuation is ongoing around the area, yet firefighters are searching the building for more survivors and victims. Suspicion is being pointed towards numerous personalities and known perpetrators, particularly Senator Ludson, who only this morning announced that he was unavailable to attend the event. Reports say that he has not yet made any comment…"

People were gathering around the reception, and Lara felt the world spin under her feet, yet she fought the nauseating dizziness and instinctively pulled Bucky away from the growing mass. He seemed to understand since he didn't pull away from her grip, or maybe he was still suspended in his incredulity.

Once they were alone, he finally spoke. "You, you think-"

"We have to call Steve, there's the um, the disposable phone somewhere…" she remembered, rummaging through her carry-on. She had already dialled the number Steve had given them before he left, anxiously shaking as she waited for the beeping tone to end. Her mind was already jumping to the worst possibilities when finally a familiar voice spoke instead. Bucky rushed to her side to hear as well as he could, his hand on her shoulder.

"Who is this?" they both let out a sigh of relief, Bucky's tense hand became less so.

"Steve! Jesus, I thought something happened to you, are you guys okay?"

"Lara? I've been trying to reach you, what happened to your phone?"

"I'll tell you about that soon, what's going on over there?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out, but we're okay. Sam's with me and the King is with the cops, all of the delegates are getting questioned."

"What the hell happened at the conference?"

"The fatalities, they were dead before the explosion. We found them before the bomb was set off, they were blue in the face. Whoever did it, they probably want it to get passed off as suffocation from the fire."

Bucky turned the television in their room on, the headlines remained the same.

"I don't think they know about the foul play," he muttered to Lara.

"You think this is Hydra as well?" she asked to both of them.

"As well? What do you mean, is that what you had to tell me?" He spoke almost unintelligibly, suddenly panicked.

"Steve, we're okay now, calm down. Honestly, neither of us know what exactly happened. I woke up and Bucky was gone, and when I see him, he was triggered."

"Do you know what brought it on?"

"I think someone inside the compound wanted to use him and subdue me." She couldn't bring herself to use the word 'kill', not without seeing the hurt in Bucky's face.

Bucky turned to her and gestured to talk to Steve, and without a word he was in the walk-in kitchen, talking indistinctly. Lara had already told Buck that it wasn't his fault, but she gave him his space as he clarified what he could to Steve.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, following the news anxiously.

"Any leads?" she heard Bucky ask as he returned to her side.

"Not yet, all they're mentioning is that Senator who didn't show." The woman hit the mute button, "Bucky, I can't force you to believe anything, but I can never blame you for this morning, for any of it." Her hand was on his, squeezing till her knuckles had gone white. Bucky looked up at her, and in those chasms of despair she could find a glint of warmth.

"We'll get through it," she promised him, resting her head against his shoulder, her fingers intertwining with his. Bucky remained motionless for some time, until he pulled away ever so slowly, his hold on her hand loosening. Lara turned to find the remote when Buck's palm was on her cheek, turning her to face him.

"You're never gonna quit on me, are you?"

"No," she breathed, her eyelids low so that she only saw his unmoving lips, she brought herself closer until they were lost in a gentle embrace.

* * *

It was late into the night when its stillness was interrupted by a buzzing noise, and only after a few rings did Lara disentangle herself from Bucky, reaching over her shoulder for the burner phone. The brightness of the screen made Bucky groan against the pillow, but he stopped when she said there was no caller ID.

"Who is this?" she asked hoarsely, rubbing her eyes while she sat upright. There was a moment of silence before a gruff voice answered her.

"You know your friend Rogers ought to be more discreet with his contacts."

"Who am I speaking to?"

"Well, we've never been formally introduced, though I'm certain Mr. Barnes is still able to recollect his intimate connection with our organisation."

"I'm guessing things didn't go according to plan after you tried to off me and get him back, now did they?" the words left her mouth through seethed teeth. Realising who was on the other end, Bucky sprung himself up, bringing his ear close to the phone, fists clenched.

The caller chuckled. "Who ever said anything about murder, Lara? Surely you didn't assume we'd dismiss your own attributes? We merely sought to… recruit you along with our soldier."

"He is not your soldier," she retorted, her knuckles turning white.

"Oh, but he is. So long as we know what we know, he will always be Hydra."

The line dropped, and the eerie silence of the night was far from calming.

She turned to Bucky, his face had turned pale.

"We have to go," she said, and ran to the vanity table, looking for the car key.

Bucky was rummaging through some belongings, the sound of paper notes crunching in his hand.

"Found the keys?"

"Here," she dangled them in response.

Just then, a strange red light glinted off of the metal keys. Before she could register what it was, Bucky had a look of terror in his eyes as he yelled.

"Get down!"

Running towards her, he pinned her to the ground as the shots went off, hitting picture frames on the wall behind them. Glass from the window shattered with every bullet, and the suddenness and shock turned to a rush of adrenaline.

"We can't go from the back, they'll be there too." Bucky muttered in frustration.

"There's the reception behind that wall, we can break through it."

Breathless as she was, she smiled in agreement.

Crouching from the ground, they rose and hurriedly punched their way through the barrier. The plastered surface began to crumble with every hit, and slowly the reception desk came into view. He reached in between the crack of the wall and pulled it apart, granting them a wide enough exit.

They brushed their way through the rubble into the empty lounge, and could hear a scuffle from the stairwell, from which a frantic manager emerged.

"What the hell is happening?! Did you, did you just break through the wall?!" His eyes were wide with panic and confusion, hopelessly attempting to grasp reality.

Not wanting the manager to get caught in a crossfire, Bucky rushed to his side and urged him to get to safety.

"Oh okay, so this is not because you've never heard of doors before? Well, _that's_ a goddamn relief!"

Without warning, Lara grabbed the man and tossed him over her shoulder like he was weightless, carrying him until she reached the desk, and set him down behind it. "Where's the nearest emergency exit?"

"There's one next to the elevator, it leads out back to the garbage disposal." He answered, gesturing towards the lift.

"We'll lead them away, stay put till they're gone."

At that, the two ran without hesitation, the door almost shut closed when Bucky yelled "Sorry about the wall!" over his shoulder.


	11. Escaping A Nightmare

Sure enough, there was the unmistakable stench of rubbish and rot. They had found themselves in an alley, and the clouded moonlight granted them cover in the darkness. Peering from the corner of the wall, Bucky spotted a suspicious black van with tinted windows at the end of the street. He turned and whispered in Lara's ear.

"We can take that van over there," he gestured to the vehicle. He scanned the rest of the street, noticing how much quieter it was now. They had to be all over the motel by now. "D'you wanna do the honours or should I?" he asked her, anxiously trying to spot any other obstacles from their viewpoint.

"I'll go, I've been meaning to give them a piece of my mind, anyway." Lara crouched low, and ran behind one of the bins in the street for cover. She was close enough to the driver's side, hoping that the darkness would guise her movements. Then she heard one of the car doors open, and the thud of boots on gravel. Peaking from one side, she could glimpse the soldier was walking to the back of the van. The moment to act presented itself, and she sprinted until she reached it. One of her shoulders was against the cool, glossy metal exterior, walking along it quietly till she was at the edge, where the soldier in padded gear was. Without a moment's hesitation, she lunged at her target from behind, one arm closed around the throat while the other silenced the mouth. She dodged the elbows as the soldier struggled to get free, his muffled grunts slowly waning. He eventually passed out and collapsed into a heap.

When she looked around from the passenger's side, she found Bucky dragging the other soldier from his seat, unconscious. "We need to go," he uttered, taking the now vacant seat, while Lara sat in the driver's. She saw the car keys dangling from the rearview mirror, and before she started the ignition, she turned to Bucky. "There's bound to be a GPS tracker on this thing," she realised.

"I yanked it out already, it was underneath," he reassured her.

"Perfect." The car engine roared in the quiet of the night, and she drove with her eyes wide, grateful for the street lights, it was risky to switch on the blinkers. He navigated the way out based on what he saw, and his need to be as far away from Hydra as possible. They went on for about twenty or so miles as the metre read, and dawn was breaking as the sun shone a shimmery veil over the skyline.

"Next phone booth we see, we're calling Steve," Bucky said wearily, caressing Lara's hair, his voice low, as she awoke from her break. She squinted when she opened her eyes, the pink sky in her sight too bright for her. The woman raised her seat and attempted to find a phone booth. The streets weren't entirely empty now, there were mostly trucks of varying corporations, and a line of rundown houses and apartment buildings.

"Did you sleep okay?" he asked genuinely, his grip on the wheel.

"Yeah, given our circumstances, I'd say I slept like a baby," she grinned, before finally spotting what they were looking for.

"There's one right there, Buck," she pointed out, and she jumped out of the car before he could even park properly. Striding towards the booth, she entered the compact, transparent enclosure, searching her pockets for small change, and dialled Steve's number from memory. She held the phone tightly, waiting for someone to pick up. The rings continued on, and the line cut after a minute. She tried again, her mind overwhelmed with unease and worry. She could see Bucky standing outside the car, anticipating her thoughts as he watched her become disheartened when no one answered. She shook her head in his direction and almost slammed the phone into the receiver. As she was about to exit the booth however, the phone rung, its tone feeble but it was loud enough for even Bucky to notice. Lara yanked the phone free and pressed it to her ear.

"Steve?"

"Lara?" he replied.

"It was them, they came after us again," she spoke calmly, unwilling to draw any attention to herself.

"Are you both okay?" The line was distorted, but the news had taken him aback.

"We're in one piece, but they were monitoring our last conversation, I don't know how," she tried not to sound defeated, but the thought of them all being hunted down was nightmarish.

"Crap." There was a pause before she continued.

"What about you guys, did you find out about the conference killings?"

"Sam found out one of the engineers behind it, and followed him back to his base. He says it's one of Hydra's."

"Why the hell are they going after those delegates? I mean, I get why they'd go for Bucky, they think they own him but what do they get from this?"

"I'm not sure, T'Challa probably knows more about them than I do but he's almost out of questioning."

"Are you going to stay in Belgium? Cause I dunno if it's safe for you to come back," she fidgeted in her pocket for more coins as the phone began beeping.

"For now, I guess we are. We have to tackle this head on. You and Bucky should get here, we can get you plane tickets if you need."

"That's okay, I've still got a couple of hundreds from my card, I took them out so we don't get traced. Guess it wasn't _that_ effective, though," she mused. "Which airport?" she asked.

A few minutes went by as Bucky kept watch of his surroundings, looking out for anything questionable. The sun was in his eyes, and he wished he had his cap. He leaned on the side door, his mind wandering in the dangerous territory of possibilities, the ends to which Hydra would go to. Seeing Lara hang up the phone snapped him back into the moment, and he spoke nervously.

"So what'd he say?"

"They're okay, they found out the Brussels incident is linked to Hydra. He suggested we rendezvous with them there," she said, unsure of whether it was the smartest move to make. "What d'you think?"

He became uneasy, but he didn't voice his concerns. Instead, he reluctantly agreed.

"Yeah, okay."

Lara was surprised by his sudden apathy, or whatever it was. He got back into the car, keeping to himself throughout the car ride, while Lara distracted herself with directions to the nearest airport.

* * *

Once they arrived, they abandoned the van and made their way to the departures. Lara walked towards one of the available attendants to ask about flights, while Bucky sat at one of the benches.

"I'm afraid the next flight to Brussels is full, but we have availability for two passengers at 6 am tomorrow."

"Okay, we'll take that."

"Would you like to be seated together?"

"Yes, please," she answered. Despite the thought of him remaining silent throughout the entire trip, she wouldn't let him shut her out like this.

She was brought out of her thoughts when the attendant asked if they would like to lodge at the airport before their flight. She did not decline.

* * *

As expected, Bucky was economical with his words, and once they were in the privacy of their room, she kicked off her boots in frustration. She had reached a tipping point.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong?" she asked abruptly.

He gave no reply, only sitting at the edge of the bed. She let the silence fall, wondering what was going on in his mind.

"We shouldn't be facing them, Lar. You know what they're capable of," he finally replied, his voice soft yet solemn.

"I will never know what it felt like all those years, what they'd done to you. But I can't stand idly by always worrying when they'll come take you away again." Her own words scared her but she remained determined on her point.

"Belgium is one of their most heavily fortified headquarters, it's a death wish to infiltrate it."

"Nothing's impenetrable," she muttered resolutely.

"Bucky, they're the ones coming after us. Are we supposed to hide for the rest of our lives while they continue to wreak havoc?" she retorted.

"If it keeps you safe, then yes!" He was yelling now, his human fist clenched.

"We are not safe, wherever we are," Lara spoke calmly. "We can get the red book, maybe we can reverse it-"

"It can't be reversed, Lara," he interjected through seethed teeth.

"How d'you know that?"

"Because we weren't made this way so that we could go back to the way we were!" As much as it pained her to see him so defeated, she couldn't watch him descend into it.

"Well, you're yourself now! We can't live like this, Buck."

"If we go face-to-face with them, we won't be!" He hung his head in resignation, before turning to face her as she stood next to him.

"If they get a hold of me, they'll make sure you're the first person I'll go after," his eyes were glassy depths of blue, encircled by red. A tear ran down his cheek.

She had no words now, nothing that seemed appropriately reassuring. She brought her thumb to his cheek, rubbing the tear away, and knelt before him, her hand gripping the back of his head tightly so that their foreheads were touching.

"You got knocked out by a pan and you're worried about me?"

His mouth remained taut and serious, but there was a gleam in his eyes.

"Why must you always-" he started, but was cut off when she kissed him roughly for a moment, and pulled away to let him continue.

"… do that?" he finished, and the corner of his mouth was raised ever so slightly.

"Because I love you, and I'd be an idiot to ever let you give in to fear," she simply pointed out, as if it the most obvious thing in the world.

He brushed her hair out of her face, pushing the strands behind her ear as he dipped down and brought his lips to hers. The kiss was tender, but their need to feel closer, to be closer, it demanded more. Lara's tongue ran over his mouth gently, and it coax him to open his, allowing her to deepen the embrace, her hands roaming over his shoulders, up to the tangles of his hair.

She pulled away and stood up quickly to pull off her shirt as he unbuttoned her trousers and undid the zip. She let the pants fall and kicked them to side, leaving Bucky to gaze at her, taking in the sight of her bare body, save for the black underwear she was in. He kissed her stomach, his hands caressing the sensitive skin of her chest, causing chills to run down her spine as her nipples hardened under his touch. She tugged at his top, gently lifting it over his head and tossing it to the floor with her own clothes. His mouth returned to her abdomen, but his hands moved lower, slowly pulling her undergarment down. The cold metal on her hip made her shudder, though it only added to the desire.

He gripped her by her derrière when he brought his lips to her centre, placing kisses between her thighs. Her fingers were lost in his hair as his tongue flicked at her sex mercilessly, the pressure of his tongue increasing as it ran along her slickness. She moaned into the air, her hands tugging at his hair as he brought her closer to the edge of the pleasure that possessed her. The woman felt her knees weaken when the rush of her peak came over her, and she was startled when Bucky rose to catch her, his mouth hard on hers, and she could taste herself on him.

He turned as he held her, laying her slowly onto the bed before he began to unzip his jeans. Unable to wait, Lara sat up and rubbed over the material against his constrained hardness. Bringing the zip to its end, she pushed the pants down, along with his boxers. Her lips kissed him at the tip, teasing as him as her tongue licked along his shaft. He closed his eyes as he groaned, which only grew louder when she suddenly enveloped him in her mouth. She coaxed his pleasure as her tongue swirled around his length, feeling his throbs become more intense. He opened his eyes and watched her, and the sight of her was enough to make him come undone. She swallowed his release, her hand still massaging his aching member.

He stepped out of his clothes and climbed above her, kissing her passionately, with all the need that he couldn't suppress. She returned the pressure as her tongue fought for dominance, though she gave in from her previous exertion. Lara moved slowly backwards, and Bucky followed, his hands running over the smooth flesh of her legs, spreading them wider for him. His body was aligned with hers, and she gasped when he entered her steadily, freezing for a moment as her body took him in. She groaned as he ground against her, and he lowered himself on his metal elbow to swallow the sounds leaving her mouth with his own, while his other hand caressed her cheek, her breasts, her side. Raising his head again, he watched her expression contort as she felt the fire in her loins grow, centring itself at the contact of their bodies. She stifled her cries as she bit at his shoulder, her hands clinging to him as her body began to shake from the effect of his thrusts. He was whispering her name into her ear as she tightened her hold. One of her hands finally fell onto the sheets as she felt herself spiral, and Bucky gripped it, his fleshy fingers entwined with hers. She surrendered to her desire, and the sudden warmth between her legs elicited his own undoing within moments.

They were in each other's arms when they regained their breath, the sound of their chests heaving all that could be heard in the blissful silence.

"I won't let them tear us apart again," he muttered, bringing her close as he kissed her forehead. "Ever."

"I know you won't," she agreed, squeezing his hand in hers. "Neither will I."

 **A/N: Hey everyone! I'm so happy and thankful for the recent love and reviews I've been getting for this story, it means the world. Unfortunately, I'm working on other story threads and I have exams, so if I don't update in the next month or two, please be patient. This chapter is a little bit longer than the recent ones to make up for that, thank you all so much.**


	12. Friendly Faces

It was a lengthy connection flight, but once they made it to Brussels, the two wasted no time in looking for the rendezvous point.

"You're pronouncing it funny, Lar," Bucky muttered, to which Lara rolled her eyes and repeated the enunciation.

"It's 'Hôtel Métropole' how hard is that to pronounce?" she pointed out in mute frustration.

"You got the aigu accent messed up," he replied smugly, and she couldn't help but want to hit him in the shoulder, but his reflexes got the better of her.

"My aigu is just fine but I thank you for the concern, monsieur," Lara feigned a sense of gratitude, while Bucky wrapped one arm around her waist as she hailed a taxi.

"Pas de problème, ma cherie." The seductive undertone in his voice made her scoff, though he knew she enjoyed it.

"Oh, stop. You love it when I talk French," Bucky retorted.

"Yeah, next thing I know you'll be singing French songs like you work at the Moulin Rouge," she bit back, stifling her urge to laugh at the thought.

"Voulez-vous chouchez avec moi, ce-soir?" he sang the words in a low voice, and she had to cover her mouth when she snorted.

Finally, a cab had slowed along the sidewalk where they stood, and she urged him inside. "Let's go, Marmalade."

"Merci," he raised the corner of his lip in that smirk which made her blush despite her best efforts to ignore him when he was getting cocky.

* * *

They pulled up outside the hotel, and Bucky made the arrangements while Lara looked at her surroundings without trying to appear even slightly conspicuous. With Hydra, no one knew what to expect, no matter how often they had crossed paths.

"Well, that's sorted," Bucky pointed out as he strode towards her from the reception desk.

"What floor?"

"Fifth, they're waiting for us there," he answered, leading her to the elevators.

They stood waiting for a lift to arrive when he snaked his arms around her a little from behind, and they looked at each other through their reflection in the stainless steel of the mechanisms.

"You know why they put this kind of mirror in the elevator doors?" Lara asked of her partner, who was now resting his chin on her shoulder. He sighed in uncertainty, while she elaborated on the little piece of trivia further.

"It's because people are so easily distracted with the reflections that they forget how long the elevators take," she mused, suppressing a grin when he began placing kisses on her shoulder and neck.

"I don't know about you but I'm thinking you're right on that one," he whispered in her ear, and she tilted her head a little to give him a chaste kiss to the lips.

"Which is why I suggest we take the stairs," she beamed at him, taking one of his hands in hers and was about to lead him to the staircase when the familiar ring of the elevator came, and Bucky almost dragged her into the lift.

If they weren't about to meet the others, Bucky would have slammed the emergency stop button and pinned her against the wall, lost in the expansive dimension of themselves when the inner mirrors reflected nothing else. Instead he simply leaned in and kissed her until they reached the fifth floor. Stepping out into the empty hallway, they strode into one of the corridors, following the directions to the room number they were given on the walls.

"Isn't this it?" he asked of Lara, who nodded in agreement. "Room 581," and just as she was about to knock, the door of the opposite hotel room was yanked opened by a friendly face. "Almost thought you guys weren't gonna show up," Sam called out, making them twist on their heels.

"Missed you too, Sam," Lara motioned towards him, embracing him with one arm.

"I know you did," he spoke nonchalantly, and when she walked into the room, he patted Bucky on the back.

"You liking the new arm?" Sam asked him as they joined the rest in the room.

"Still has a few kinks," he replied, and Sam couldn't help but make fun of the response.

"Yeah, I'm sure it does, man," he muttered, earning a glare from Bucky, which Sam shrugged off.

They found Lara bowing her head to T'Challa before she gave a quick hug to Steve, and then asked them why the room number changed.

"It's just standard precautions, we switched them to confuse people," the king assured her, and she heard Wilson say in a low murmur something along the lines of "been watching Ghost Protocol too much."

"Did you run into more Hydra after we spoke?" Steve asked of the new arrivals, to which they shook their heads in negation.

"Doesn't mean they've been shaken off," Lara reminded them, and turned her attention to the Wakandan ruler.

"Do you know if the compound is still compromised?" she inquired curiously.

"The Dora Milaje have the nurse in their custody, they've been questioning her for days but they haven't obtained any valuable information yet."

"Wait, you're holding her hostage?" Bucky intervened, evidently startled by this new piece of information.

"Of course," T'Challa reaffirmed, eyeing him with an air of resolve.

Steve also looked at Bucky with suspicion, while Lara and Sam seemed to be more confounded than wary. The star-spangled man took a step forward before he began to voice his concern.

"Buck-" he pronounced his name slowly.

"What?" the soldier snapped, knowing where his friend was going to direct the conversation.

"You can't talk to her," he said calmly, the severity of his expression meeting with defiance.

"You know that I can get into their heads better than anyone." He glared at his oldest friend sternly.

That was the moment that the rest had understood what was being discussed, or demanded.

"You think that's the smartest way to go around this?" Steve posed his question, though it would have been better to have ended without an answer.

"The rest of them are trying to capture us or blow up buildings, maybe it's not so bad-" Sam was trying to give his own diplomatic two cents, but was cut off by Steve.

"He can be manipulated with a string of words that we don't even know about, we know what will happen if he gets anywhere near a Hydra operative."

Bucky was on the verge of breaking a piece of furniture, the chair beside him or the lamp in the corner. It didn't matter, all that was clear was the rage building up inside him. Lara herself felt anxious as she watched him grow more and more agitated.

"What difference is it going to make? We're not going back to Wakanda anytime soon," Lara blurted out impatiently, desperate to steer the conversation back to what they were here to do. However, her attempts were rendered futile when the King corrected her.

"I never said she was being held in Wakanda." The royal's gaze moved from Lara to Bucky, and in a manner, was certain that he would only be fuelling Bucky's determination by disclosing this.

"Where is she?" Bucky asked, now more restless, and yet worn by the thoughts of him being too fragile or vulnerable to be of any real use to defeating Hydra. The strings which held him in place were tightly woven, like a flightless insect caught in the web of a looming spider.

"She was running in Belgium, avoiding detection, but the Milaje traced and caught her before she could make it in the vicinity of their Belgian base," T'Challa replied coolly.

"So she's here?" Lara deduced rather than asked, and Steve only confirmed what she believed.

"Somewhere close by, where no one can interrupt," T'Challa added, placing an emphasis on the action which he knew that Bucky was keen to carry out.

"What if one of us questioned her, and Bucky was aiding us through an ear piece?" the only woman in the room suggested among them. Steve was the only one who didn't seem too intrigued by the idea.

"She might recognise the techniques, and once she realises he's listening-"

"They need to shock me before, otherwise it has no effect on me," Bucky interjected impatiently, but was quickly followed by Steve's retort.

"You can't know that for sure, you said it yourself, you can't trust your own mind." The words came out like the exasperated rattle of gunfire.

"I think I know them better than you could, or more than I ever wanted to!" the scruffy soldier raised his voice with a force that made him all the more fixated, his entire stance as unshaken as his intent.

Steve wound up holding his tongue for a moment, feeling like the effort to dissuade him would be futile, so he sat at the edge of the couch in their room, letting out an almost inaudible sigh.

"If that is the course of action you are willing to take," T'Challa broke the silence, his gaze focused on no one but Bucky, "I will see that you get your interrogation."

"Okay, great but who's going to be doing the actual interrogating?" Sam asked the room, and Steve stared at his hands as he spoke. "I can do it."

"No, you and me have been too close to this," Bucky pointed out lowly and turned his head to Lara, who gave him a look of subtle astonishment.

"You're sure?" she nearly murmured the question, while Sam spoke up from her other side.

"Don't worry, I'll hold his hand while you make us proud," he said coolly, though his eyes lit up in a mischievous manner, and even Bucky couldn't fight the urge to grin at them both.

"You'll manage," he said to her encouragingly.

She sighed, and looked at Steve who seemed more occupied with worrying thoughts than annoyance. She knelt beside him, and nudged him a little.

"I get where you're coming from, we'd both lost someone to these guys," she began, watching his expression carefully as she picked her words, "but he trusts me and you, so maybe we owe that to him and his judgement." He turned to her and uttered the unexpected surrender.

"You're right."

She patted him on the back, and looked to him again when she rose.

"And hey, I got him this far, didn't I?" she gave him a slight smile, which he returned after a few moments.

"Yeah, well you're lucky you had that pan around," Bucky added, to which the rest stared at him.

Whether they were just confused or awaiting an explanation, he gave it to them readily.

"She knocked me out with a pan," which earned a wider smile from both King T'Challa and Steve, while Sam stood by, almost dumbstruck.

"Dude, seriously?" Wilson finally managed, still staring at Bucky in amazement. "Of course she did," he ended up muttering to himself, making Lara grin all the more.

 **A/N: Hey everyone, just wanted to thank you all for being patient for the next** **instalment, the cloud of exams has finally cleared! Hope you enjoy this chapter and if you're interested, I've also begun an M-rated Loki x O.C. fic called "Very Much Alive" so feel free to check that out.**


	13. The Woman In Question

"How long has she been this silent?" Lara asked of T'Challa, eyeing the Hydra prisoner through the one-way glass.

The woman sat still, scarcely blinking or fidgeting. Even the cup of water was full. Lara couldn't help but wonder for how long that cup remained untouched.

"About a day, as Nakia has told me," the king replied calmly, though his manner made a fair disguise for his frustration at this supposed end-pass which they had reached.

"Do you have a strategy to use against her?" he continued, turning to face Lara. She looked at him with genuine uncertainty as she spoke. "There's a few things, but he'd be able to help me better if we knew what division she worked in."

"Are there any devices you wish to use?" he inquired further of her, to which she declined. "High ranks in Hydra always possess more tolerance to torture," she pointed out, her gaze fixed on the seated operative again, "but if she's of lower standing, she probably would've given up some information by now."

"So you think she's important," he deducted from her reasoning, while she was still unable to discern which buttons were there for her to push.

"I don't know, maybe. Honestly, even Bucky doubts that she's a hired gun, they tend to make use of loyal people, or at least force them to be."

"Well, make sure the comms are working before you step in there, you don't want to give Bucky away."

Lara reached into one of her jeans pockets and then tugged at the ear piece before placing it snuggly into her right ear, and allowed her dark hair to cover it.

"You there, handsome?" she almost whispered the words when an unintended recipient made a reply.

"I assume she's talking to you," was the utterance made by the unmistakeable Sam Wilson.

"Give it," a far-off, huskier voice called out.

"Let the adults talk, Sam," she added, to which she earned a distant scoff.

"You all set?" he asked, and she detected an element of encouragement in his tone.

"Yeah, I just wanted to make sure you're on the line."

"Well, I did make dinner plans for me and my lady," he replied resignedly.

"Oh, did you now?" she said with a certain coyness.

"Yep, I've been meaning to take her out so I don't want to disappoint her," he continued.

"I'm sure you don't," she went along with it, buying into this fantasy even for just a few fleeting moments, like there was nothing else that mattered other than the time at which two people got off from work just to make it for a date. She hadn't even realised that there was complete silence until Bucky had broken it.

"I'll be here, for as long as you need."

"You spoil your girlfriend like this too?" she chided with a playful undertone.

"Get cracking knuckles, woman," she didn't need to see it but she could imagine him rolling his eyes as he spoke.

"On it."

She stood there for a short while behind the oneway glass, waiting for a single flinch, a betrayal of the woman's statuesque state. But that crack in composure never came, even when Lara finally stepped in that cold, grey room, the crisp paper of a classified folder in one hand.

Wordlessly dragging a stainless steel chair behind her, she sat across from the prisoner, who remained unfazed. Lara's lips were in a taut, neutral line, and folded her arms over the table top.

"I take it that Annabel Ramsien is a mere alias," the Asgardian began, not breaking eye contact with the operative. The woman raised her eyebrows slightly, and sneered in sarcastic mockery.

"Must've broke the mould with such excellent perceptive skills," she replied, the words escaping through seethed teeth.

"Thanks but you should see what else I dug up," Lara countered as she brought the folder from the side of the table, and flipped through it casually, as if she were skimming through a magazine.

"You were adopted by a distant relative just after you were born, but the papers redacted the reason why," she mused, looking up at 'Ramsien' intently. "Now, it makes sense, it's a closed adoption at the end of the day, you were told that your mother died in childbirth, so you did your own research, and then you found out."

She left her deduction hanging, and yet there was barely a reaction. Then it was there, a tight, sarcastic smirk playing on her mouth, and she leaned further into her seat, her hands on the metallic armrests.

"You should've opened with that," she murmured.

"And you should've covered your tracks better," Lara retorted.

"I didn't know what I was getting to. If I did, we'd probably be in a reversal of roles." There was an element of irritation in her tone, which Lara noticed along with the sudden dilation in Annabel's eyes. Bucky's voice in her ear almost startled her.

"She might have a different agenda," he said calmly.

"Stephanie Malick gave you up, you found out what had happened to her, and then you join the organisation which essentially killed her?" Lara knew that there was more to the young woman from the moment she read through the file, and she had to press on.

"She was too ambitious, just like Gideon," she shrugged off her answer.

"Your grandfather."

"Not my grandfather," she spat.

"Well, I'd think it was pretty prestigious if I was a descendant of one of the biggest names in Hydra," she trailed off, looking down at a picture of Gideon from the file, and raising it up to show Annabel, "but you thought differently. You used a fake name to hide from everyone, including Hydra."

Annabel shifted slightly in her seat, one of her fists clenched, her eyes cold.

"Why did you want to infiltrate Hydra?" Lara continued, her body still. The woman reached forward and seized the cup of water, taking a gulp before making her reply.

"Even if I try to justify myself with the truth, you wouldn't believe me," she said resignedly. Lara was taken aback by it.

"You think there's any justification for what you've done?" she posed for the woman, who bit back with an expression of disdain.

"I was following orders, just like your boyfriend."

"But the difference was that he had no choice, but you put yourself in their hands." Lost in some thought of familiarity, it began to piece itself together in her mind.

"Hydra gave you the orders to have us subdued back at the compound, but you had access to all the research, and the last Soldier."

"I had a cover to maintain, I still do, they'll probably kill me themselves if you don't." She rolled her eyes like an angsty teen, but she sounded indifferent rather than defeated.

"We don't kill our enemies, and I can't even be sure if you are one," Lara mused as she turned the page from the file, which showed a few pictures of Annabel sitting in a diner, across a man wearing a hoodie.

"Did he help you get Hydra's attention?" she inquired, one finger gesturing towards the hooded figure.

"He was my P.I., but we also shared a similar motive," she said, and there was a hint of defeatist now.

"Revenge," Lara surmised, to which Annabel nodded. "He wanted to bring down Hydra, and then out of nowhere, he got interested in a specific faction."

"The Winter Soldiers."

"He said we could use them to turn on those who controlled them, he knew I had done research on human conditioning, so we hoped I could alter the workings of the soldiers, convert them." She paused, as if she were piecing together the remnants of a puzzle in her mind. It became clear to Lara once she continued that it was a painful recollection on which she was dwelling on.

"I thought he wanted to help me save them, then he killed them while they were in cryostasis, I had barely scratched the surface and he shot them," Annabel stiffened as she made this revelation, like the pang of betrayal was still fresh in her mind.

Meanwhile, it had dawned on the interrogator that she was referring to none other than Helmut Zemo, and it all came into focus for both Bucky and Lara.

"I thought he was working alone," Bucky muttered. So did I, his partner thought to herself.

"So what changed?"

"He knew I was hitting a lot of dead ends, I thought maybe he gave up on the whole idea. Then one day he just stopped communicating with me, and I didn't know what I was meant to do when I realised what he'd done," Annabel took another gulp of water before she resumed her narrative.

"I found my way into Hydra, told them I shared the same beliefs as Zemo, tearing the Avengers apart, then they told me that the King was looking for specialists to treat Bucky so I left for Wakanda," her words left her trembling a little, and she couldn't bring herself to meet Lara's gaze, looking ashamed.

"They had me wired throughout the whole time I was researching Bucky, and they would get all the information I did, and when they gave the order to have him surrender himself and you, I couldn't refuse without looking suspicious."

Lara on the other hand, was unsure of what to make of all this. If she was telling the truth, then it was strange that she hadn't come clean earlier. If she was lying, it was a well-fabricated story.

"And yet you remained silent when Nakia and the rest of the Dora Milaje tried to get answers from you?" she reasoned, undoubtedly curious. Annabel rose slightly from her chair until her back was completely upright, her shoulders more relaxed.

"To them, I'm the undetectable Hydra mole that's been under their nose for months, do you really think they were ready to believe that I was actually against Hydra all along?"

"I don't know," Lara admitted truthfully. "To me, it seems as if you're the boy who cried wolf, you've been lying for so long, it's frustrating when no one believes your truths."

"Well, look how he turned out," Annabel muttered, to which Lara couldn't help but stifle a smirk.

"Even if I believe you, you probably won't be able to leave our custody, we can't have you going on a suicide mission like Zemo," Lara enunciated as she rose from her chair.

"I know, but I've been inside some of their bases, you might find me useful," she pointed out.

"We'll see," she answered, and walked out of the room, clutching the folder to her chest as she closed the door.


	14. Persuasion

"Out of the question," Sam could be heard proclaiming his disapproval of the prisoner's suggestion over the comms link, undeniably in earshot distance of Bucky, who knew it was futile to talk over Wilson at the moment.

"He hasn't even heard the whole account,"Lara pointed out in frustration. She was pacing in the soundproof room where she'd been discussing with T'Challa prior to the interrogation.

Bucky licked his lips before he failed to assure her on that front. "He put you on speaker halfway through. To be fair, I don't know what to make of it-"

"And I don't buy it for a second," Wilson called out resolutely.

"What if she provides inside intel and it's accurate?" she proposed, anticipating their mixed reactions already.

"She's been away for months, they might have changed things at the base, upped security since her capture," Bucky reasoned.

"Or it's a set up, and in exchange for what? Her freedom? You're talking about one hell of a bargain, Lara," Wilson's voice was calmer, but there was still the element of disbelief in his voice.

"If she's still affiliated with them, and we let her go, they'll have the advantage. They'll either be waiting for us or they'll desert the compound completely," Bucky paused, and everyone else remained silent for a moment until he continued. "I can't believe this is coming from me but he's right."

"To be honest, I'm not sure I believe this either," Sam retorted quickly.

"Okay, great, at least we're sane enough to agree on that," she muttered to herself, exasperated. "I'm gonna go consult T'Challa, see what he thinks."

"Why? You know he's gonna say 'no' right?"

"Maybe not." Annabel was after all his captive, if they were intent on making use of her, it would take T'Challa some convincing.

"Okay, but if things go sideways, I'm sorry but it's on you," he remarked, but they all knew that it wouldn't faze her in the slightest. That was the thing about Lara, as much as she paid attention to the possibilities and consequences, she would remain forever an optimist. So long as she had the epitome of impossibility, her love back in her arms after so many decades, hope was on her side.

* * *

After inquiring Nakia about where the King was, Lara motioned towards an office, knocking on the metal barrier which served as a doorway.

"Enter," T'Challa answered, and buzzed her in.

The room was sizeable enough, an array of screens set behind the desk where the Wakandan was, seated in a tall, wooden chair. There were weapons stacked neatly in an upright position on one side, and a holographic view of a forest on the other. Unless she was unaware that they were underground in Belgium, Lara could've believed it to be real. Her amazement didn't go unnoticed.

"Sometimes even the most convincing lies can seem truthful," he uttered, before rising from his seat and pacing towards her, and faced the holographic image as he spoke. "I hope you are wary of that, Lara."

"I know," she could all but manage. Everything that she thought, all the echoes of said thoughts on the minds of Sam and Bucky, she understood what the risks were. She twisted away from the trees and faced the King.

"Could you sanction her freedom once she pulls through?"

"Why would I even consider such a thing? Her story could be a matter of fiction, you know that as well as anyone."

"Yes, but what if it isn't? Isn't there some kind of proof we could dig up?" she suggested with earnest conviction. There had to be something, she knew it.

"Zemo's possessions are in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s custody, they could crosscheck their information with us. Get locations, dates, whatever you can get out of her," he replied after some moments of deduction.

"And if it adds up?" Lara added in anticipation.

"Then we make a move."

* * *

"He actually said 'yes'?" Sam repeated for the third time, while Bucky groaned in irritation.

"It's a conditional 'yes', it depends on the crosschecking and for all we know, it might even take more than that," Bucky kept his voice low, but his eyes betrayed his seemingly-calm demeanour.

The only response he got was a scoff, which exasperated, but didn't surprise, Barnes.

"Have you even been listening to anything Lara's saying?!" he raised his voice, wishing he could put Wilson on mute for a little while, maybe he'd actually listen instead of continue his yammering, Bucky thought to himself.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I guess it's a little hard to here over how stupidly huge this risk is," Sam replied before Lara spoke up over the comms.

"You have any other intel to go on? Any other Hydra bases we might break into?" Lara spoke up, her head hanging low with her palms clasped around her exposed neck, staring blankly at the table. "Or are we just gonna wait for another opportunity like this to just get handed to us again?" she added as she raised her eyes to the two men.

Bucky sighed before dragging a chair out and sitting across from her. "You know that this could just as easily be bait, but…" he trailed off in hesitation, finding the will for the words, "we need to be ready for anything, even if that means an infiltration op," twisting around to find Sam shrugging his shoulders in reluctant acceptance.

"Fine, but if they catch something that's even slightly off from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s end, then there's no op," he drew closer to them, resting his folded arms over the chair's metal back.

* * *

It had been a matter of days, three in fact, before they finally got word of the results, once they felt they had enough material to examine. Daisy Johnson saw to it personally that no strange intelligence escaped her attention as she ran the protocol tests. "Nope, doesn't seem like she's wrong what went down with Zemo," Daisy spoke into the comms, with Lara listening attentively.

"She told me he bought a gun before he went back to kill the soldiers, I sent you a couple of details of the model," Lara reminded the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, who was in turn a step ahead of her.

"Yeah, it matched with the seller's records, facial recognition traced it in Cleveland, that was way before he got Karpov, though."

"Yeah, erm, Annabel said he was searching for Vasily, but all he got were dead ends," the Asgardian remembered from the list of things she found out from the interrogation. "They had just started talking about Hydra back then."

"Uh, well, with all the other events we followed back on, everything checks out," Daisy affirmed Lara's suspicions. There was the green light she was looking for.

"Okay, you're sending the crosschecks back, right?"

"Yeah, I just did the transfer, everything's on there."

And sure enough, the file transfer was made, with CCTV footage, GPS tracker information, and anything that helped prove her case.

"The others, they needed this convincing, Daisy. Thank you," Lara uttered sincerely.

"Anytime," Daisy replied, and ended the call.

Lara wasted no time showing the files to T'Challa, and showing how their prisoner gave a faithful account of everything she had mentioned.

"Rogers, I believe, will also be eager to accompany you four," the King finally deduced after perusing the information carefully.

"I don't doubt that one bit, your Highness," Lara agreed fully, "so I take it, Annabel is free to be our aide?" she inquired uneasily, unsure if she was jumping the gun.

"Yes, but certain precautions must be taken…" The Wakandan paced across the room, before turning around and addressing her with his wary gaze. "There are a number of safeguards available for missions like these, you'll find them in the armoury."

"Of course," she once again concurred, and bowed her head gently before taking her leave.

* * *

Bucky was waiting anxiously for Steve's thoughts on the mission, but the Star Spangler hero was hesitant about Annabel.

"T'Challa gave you the go-ahead?" he asked of the trio, and Sam answered with a nod.

"She checks out, Steve," he muttered, but Wilson was less reserved about it. He knew what he agreed to, and he was willing to go through with it. As did Lara and Bucky.

"And you two, you trust her?" Steve directed his question at the couple, and Bucky admitted that he didn't, but it didn't matter because she was their only way in.

"If she wants her freedom, she'll be smart about it, Hydra would want her dead anyway after she gave up their location," Lara pointed out, which made Steve acknowledge that she was right.

With a yielding exhalation, he simply answered "So where do we start?"

 **A/N: kind of went through a block lately, balancing school and all that, but the next chapter's gonna be longer for sure, thanks for holding on to this story :)**


	15. Making An Entrance

The clouds were looming overhead, dimming out what was left of the sun in a sky of violets and baby blues. Something about the scene could've sent Lara in a daze had she not been here donning a bulletproof, yet flexible suit, resting Bucky's sniper rifle on a roof's ledge, peering through the scope at the seemingly abandoned lot of warehouses.

"I'm gonna go on a limb and say they're on a really long lunch break," Lara spoke into the warm air.

"Well, it's better than assuming that they've moved camp altogether," the rifle's owner countered through the device in her ear, musing in a lower tone. She could spot him from where she was positioned, clad in black, a worn-out cap on his head, his back against the wheels of a truck. The sunlight caught in his sleeved metal hand, and he reached from one of his pockets for his glove.

"No movement detection from the sensors either, you sure they work alright?" Sam muttered as he fidgeted restlessly with the interface on his new bracer, as he controlled the movements of Shuri's updated version of Redwing. It had a holographic cloaking device to enhance its stealthiness, though Wilson had missed seeing the thing in action.

"Of course it works," Okoye said dismissively, "You're just not using it properly," she shook her head as he began his defence,

"'Not using it properly'? Thanks but I think I know how to use my own equipment," he scoffed at the thought, which in turn earned a patient sigh from his newfound ally.

"Give me your arm," she demanded, but reached for it before he could object. She examined it for a moment, only to deduce the issue almost immediately.

"You forgot to calibrate the range settings, Wilson…" relinquishing her grip from his limb. He took it upon himself to prove her wrong.

"I did not forget-" but was cut off when he saw the little red warning reading otherwise.

"Never mind," he mumbled, and then directed his attention to the sudden influx of activity taking place within the warehouse as Redwing hovered in the air.

"You were saying?" Bucky interjected, the hint of satisfaction in his voice only added on to Sam's annoyance.

"We're talking three agents surface level, a dozen about 50 feet below them, the rest are scattered across the entire lot. I'm counting at least twenty-five more possible hostiles."

"Which warehouse are they occupying?" Lara asked, now more alert.

"The little blue one, they're just behind the front entrance."

"We can't risk them warning their people," Okoye pointed out, looking over at the imaging on Sam's bracer. "We have to move quickly."

"We already covered the cameras, they're on a footage loop." Steve assured the rest of the team, as he and T'Challa were on ground level, a few metres away from the targeted location.

There were small windows on either side of the otherwise-ordinary building, but it was good enough for them to sneak under and throw in smoke grenades, before discreetly incapacitating the lookouts. One aimed his firearm at T'Challa's suit, bullets which hit their target but to no avail. Nearing the shooter, a swift flick of the wrist and the shotgun was split in half, his claws protracted for another swing.

The other two were unsure of what happening, and they attempted to signal the alarm.

"I can't see it! Hanes! Where's the goddamn switch?" The operative was frantic, aimlessly feeling his way through the smoke. The other stifled his coughing to yell back.

"It's on your side, dumbass!" Hanes cried out, limbs flailing before he collapsed onto his knees. _Hydra hired these guys?_ Steve thought to himself, incredulous. But his meditations on how far Hydra seemed to have fallen would have to wait, and so he flung his shield at one man, before bouncing onto the other. The clang of metal covered the sound of the thuds which followed.

"On their part, I was expecting more skill than that," T'Challa remarked, as if he was disappointed.

"So was I," more so. It couldn't be. Calling in the rest, the king shrugged at his general, who was also surprised at how easy it was to overpower them. He agreed with her, which made her all the more wary.

"Defences are supposed to be much more durable than that," her eyes examining the enclosed area as their surroundings came into focus. There was no sign of others. But the typical appearance of the place reminded Steve of the hidden bunker in the SSR holding, back at the old military camp. Thoughts of that day made his jaw clench.

"So what are we supposed to find? A hidden trapdoor?" Lara surmised as she walked ahead, trying to find something out of place in the cluttered shelves, the aisles full of disorderly piled boxes, covered in dust. The group split along the aisles, Bucky paced behind Lara, his gaze darting from one side of the room to the other.

"Nah, they stopped using those in the eighties," he murmured sarcastically, and she turned to raise an eyebrow at him.

"Really?" As he was about to answer, Bucky saw a blue glimmer just below her foot. Instinctively, he lunged at her and pulled her close with his metal arm, his grip tightly wound around her waist, her breath knocked out of her. "What?!" she half asked, half exclaimed.

Looking at her in disbelief, he sighed at how close they were to setting off some defence measure. He gestured to the laser just a few steps away from them. "That," he simply replied, before letting her go. He gave a heads-up to the others.

"They've upgraded a little since then," he added, smirking. She scoffed, trying to hide her sheepish embarrassment.

"No kidding," she mumbled, flashing her torch ahead of her as they moved further in the dimly lit space. But when the light hit the wall, she saw something strange. A faint, yet noticeable stain on the wall. _Blood?_ "The security door's here somewhere," Okoye echoed what she was thinking.

"Yeah but where?" the Asgardian muttered to herself, glancing around to see what other indicators they could find.

Steve moved closer to examine the stain, tentatively placing his hand on the wall. At the instant of contact, a red light glowed around the outline of his extremities. He pulled away instinctively, and in the empty spot, there was a French warning sign.

"The wrong handprints will trigger an alarm, Steve," T'Challa spoke calmly, while Bucky walked off only to return moments later with one of the unconscious guards over his shoulder to avoid the lasers, before unceremoniously dropping him onto the floor, indifferent. "We just need the hand, right?" he mused.

Sam helped him hoist the soldier while Bucky swiftly tugged off the glove, and positioned the hand over the red area, and the time which passed, as they stood waiting anxiously, felt longer than it really was. To their relief, the green glow was followed by a shift in the ground beneath them, causing them to step back. A descent of steps formed before them, passing under the wall.

Dropping the soldier once more, Bucky gestured at Sam, a subtle yet smug look along the curved line of his lip. "After you."

"I'd say ladies first, but I'm trying to be progressive," he replied with a similar air of self-satisfaction, whereas Okoye, standing impatiently behind them, scoffed at the thought that she was here working alongside men who may as well have been children with guns. Holding her hand out, the metal rod expanded into her spear, and wordlessly descended into the dark unknown.

The others in their team had been more accustomed to these instances of immaturity, which only made them stare amazedly at Okoye, until Bucky turned to his progressive pal. "I think she likes you," he smirked, walking after the unimpressed Wakandan, who was probably out of earshot.

"Well, she has a funny way of showin' it," Wilson muttered to himself, and started after them.

The walls were bare bricks and cement, not a single coat of paint. The rough texture pricked Lara's fingertips as she followed after Wilson, soon enough to realise that there was an obstacle in the way.

"Retinal scanner," Okoye muttered from the head of the group. Steve, who was at the back, motioned to grab the unconscious guard at the top of the stairs, and the rest stepped aside as he brought him forward, with Okoye helping by keeping the guy's eye wide enough to be checked.

Moments later, the metal door nudged forward.

The sound of footsteps behind the barrier grabbed their collective attention immediately. Nevertheless, Steve raised his shield in a defensive position, turned to the rest, who were just as ready as he was.

But, being prepared for a counter attack, what lay before their eyes had left them nonplussed.

Four women and three men were in the bunker's entrance hall, striding towards the intruders. Their faces looked as if they had been bludgeoned, with blots of deep purplish black on their cheeks, their necks. But the sharp glint of metal attracted their focus as the seven neared, their firm limbs of silver ready to make their marks.

"I thought you said they lost the serum?" Lara muttered to Bucky, as the team raised their weapons and fists for close combat.

* * *

 **A/N: New update, I'm sorry it's taken so long, just a reminder that I appreciate everyone's** **enthusiasm and comments, I finished exams recently and I'm balancing my dissertation and work at the moment but thank you all for being so patient xx**


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